“Take one pint of water, add a half pound of sugar, the juice of eight lemons, the zest of half a lemon. Pour the water from one jug then into the other several times. Strain through a clean napkin.

Grandmother, the alchemist, you spun gold out of this hard life, conjured beauty from the things left behind.”Lemonade, Beyoncé

The untold stories of the matriarch. . . Someone recently encouraged me to search for those unspoken words that hold generations of wisdom. A conversation of both legacy and womanhood. From the one that has led a life that resulted in me. I’ve been searching, more so questioning the generational curses that plague my family. But I find it more interesting to understand my sisters, mother, and grandmother as women, rather than familial parties.

The truth of experience lives in them. Some if not all untold, usually masked by personal forms of deflection or the lack of ability to share.  Their life moments provide the setting and placement for which we stand. Mothers to daughters, sister to sister, the endurance of their life at times provides the warmth for our sorrows. Allowing us to share a moment, and have a place of safety. The   ‘ I’ve been there, done that’ lies in the silence of their hugs, even in the seemingly cold expression of disappointment.

In those spaces, we connect, learn and grow. More than anything we feel for each other.  A true womanhood that isn’t tethered to titles of a relationship more than the actual relationship. As we begin to celebrate our mothers, explore a new conversation. Understand them as women past the mother that has raised you, its more to be discovered and learned.