Support for women ripening into their second bite of life.

Dear Reader,

If you've been around my newsletter for a while, you probably know my mom has journeyed with cancer.

For 15 years.

She has said yes to life in ways that still astonish me.

In January, she moved into hospice. And her decline has been so, so fast.

Yesterday I curled up next to her while she slept, soaking the corner of our shared pillow with my slow, deep tears. It was such simple nectar — feeling her hold my hand. Watching her rest with the softest smile on her face. As weak as she is – holding onto me.

Late in life — later than I wished for her — my mom embraced her woo. Her gifts were immense and she bloomed them fast. For a brief window between owning her magic and getting sick, she was invited to travel and heal people with her energy and touch. She LOVED it.

I've told my daughter since she was small: You can rest in my love. When you're sad, when you're angry, when you don't have words. Now she comes to me when I'm sick or tender — arms wide, pulling me in — and says: Rest in my love, little mama is here.

Watching my mother finally come into her own and almost immediately receive a terminal diagnosis, I don't know, Reader... it radicalized me.

It made me want to own what gifts I carry. To stop hiding, waiting, second guessing. To offer them up – even when fear tries its damnedest to talk me out of it.

What moved me to tears yesterday — besides the long ache of this goodbye — was the firmness of her grip.

Resting in her love.

Ours has been a complicated love. I've kept it at arm's length more than I want to admit. But something cracked open between us, our defenses dropped — and we found each other. Really found each other. Late, and not too late.

Maybe that's the gift hiding inside the grief we know all too well by midlife. Not just losing love — but finally letting it all the way in.

I'll be back Sunday with a journaling prompt. Until then, rest somewhere soft. xx

With love,

Brooke

Hi there! I'm Brooke Hofsess—Midlife Midwife for women living their messy, holy second bite of life.

Through coaching, creativity, and ritual, I guide women back to the parts of themselves they were taught to tamp down—their wild, their creativity, their intuition. The women I work with are hungry for depth, meaning, and the relief of not doing life alone anymore.

You'll find me in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina, where I live with my husband Dustin, our daughter Thea, two clever border collies, and an ever-growing collection of handmade mugs for Egyptian Licorice Mint tea.