I rely on Mom’s strength; my kids will rely on mine

Nothing lasts forever — including the sweet intermediary phase of life I’m currently in, where I can bounce between youth and adulthood on a whim. When I need a break from the daily grind, I spend a week or two working remotely from my parents’ house, eating my mom’s cooking and watching TV with my brother. It almost feels like it did when we were all living under the same roof, a family of four facing the world together.

Yet I’m acutely aware that this is a last hurrah, an in-between period before everything changes. Presumably sooner rather than later, my brother and I will settle down with partners and have kids of our own. Instead of seeking refuge from the outside world, we’ll be the ones helping our kids confront it.

That idea — both foreign and intimidating — is one I think about often on Mother’s Day. My mom, Kelly Hoeven, has always been the first person I turn to for advice, the first person I call when something goes wrong, the first person I seek when I want to be taken care of. She probably knows more about me than anyone else.

I’m incredibly grateful for the strength of our relationship. But it also scares me — because I can’t imagine losing it.

My grandma, my mom’s mom, passed away about six years ago. I was in college in Pennsylvania when my mom called with the news; I was walking to class when I answered the phone and started crying in the middle of the sidewalk so insistently that several strangers handed me Kleenex.

But as devastating as it was for me to lose my grandma, I knew it was nothing compared to what my mom was feeling — and still feels.

I recently called my mom and asked her how the meaning of Mother’s Day has changed for her since her mom passed away, a conversation that at several points left us in tears.

“I envy people who still have their moms,” she told me.

Of course, she noted, people have all sorts of relationships with their mothers — good, bad, complicated, nonexistent — and there are all types of families, with grandparents, aunts, uncles, fathers and friends filling the role we might traditionally think of as a mother’s.

But when you have a strong bond

“There’s just something very unique about that relationship. Your mom is your mom.”

Kelly Hoeven

with your mom, “there’s just something very unique about that relationship,” she said. “Your mom is your mom.”

“It doesn’t mean they’re perfect, and it doesn’t mean you haven’t had fights with them. But they’re someone you just know loves you and would take the time to listen to you and knows all the minutiae of detail about you, and you can be mad at them, and you can be happy with them, and it’s just all out there.”

Still, being that close can make change more painful.

“It’s hard watching your parent get older and maybe become a different person,” my mom said.

When I asked my mom if she was worried about our relationship changing as we get older — or if she misses the days of me and my brother being little kids — she paused.

“I’ve actually really enjoyed all the stages, from little to big to on your own,” she said. “I love watching you grow … so I’m not sitting there wishing for a time when you were little and things were simpler.” Along the way, she changed, too. “You just learn so much about being a person, being a human —

learning new things, learning new perspectives, not being so pigeonholed with the way you grew up or the way you thought things were supposed to be,” she said.

Yet it’s impossible to be prepared for every situation.

“With my mom leaving … you feel like you’re the next one on deck,” my mom said. “It’s like, ‘Oh, I’m supposed to be the matriarch? I’m supposed to be all-knowing for all the problems?’ I’m not!”

That’s exactly what gives me trepidation about the next phase of my life. When I have a family of my own, I won’t be able to just go over to my parents’ house if I’m dealing with something difficult or want to take a break from my responsibilities. I will be the one responsible, the one in charge, the one providing guidance — even when I don’t know the answer, even when I’m not sure of the best course, even when I want nothing more than to be comforted myself.

My mom no longer has her mother to turn to, but it was precisely “because of her I learned how to take care of myself and I was able to handle losing her — even though it was really, really hard,” she said.

My mother discovered she was stronger than she thought. And, because I am my mother’s daughter, I have faith that I’ll discover the same.

Emily Hoeven/The Chronicle 2018 Emily Hoeven (right) says her mother Kelly is the first person she turns to for advice. Their strong relationship is a comfort to her.