Motherless Daughters Gather at California Retreat to Share Grief and Joy

A group of women who call themselves motherless daughters gathered for the first time on a mountaintop at Mount Madonna in Northern California. All were 21 or younger when their mothers died, many from cancer or other illnesses, some suddenly. Their lives divide into before and after.

Hope Edelman founded the retreats. Since the first one in 2016, more than 500 women have attended events across the country.

"We say at every retreat, there may be 20 women who came to the retreat, but there's 40 women in the room," Edelman said. "And it's a way to reaffirm that these aren't just women who died; they're also women who lived, and many of them lived joyously."

The sessions feature deep conversations, yoga, shared meals and tears. One woman said, "I don't remember her voice." Participants call it "sad camp," but laughter fills the air. Another recalled her mother's pranks: "She would steal people's stuff at work and, like, leave them ransom notes to find it!"

Edelman said the women feel seen here. "Our mother was usually the person who saw us," she said. "So, many of us have not felt seen for a long time."

Edelman's mother died in 1981 at age 42. Hope was 17. "My Mom had been the person, the emotional center of the family," she said.

In the years after, Edelman sought stories to understand her grief. "When I started doing interviews and research and found other women and saw how similar our stories were, I knew there was going to be a book there," she said.

Her 1994 book, Motherless Daughters: The Legacy of Loss, became an instant bestseller. It has grown into a global support network. Edelman has received thousands of letters over the decades. She said when motherless daughters connect, "There's an immediate sense of connection. One woman said years ago she felt like the alien finding the mothership."

Jennie Zhao, who resembles her mother, never met another person who lost a mom to suicide as a child until joining this community. This is her third retreat. "The women in the Motherless Daughters community, they mirror back my own heart, my own goodness, my own compassion," she said.

Women often join at life turning points: health crises, motherhood, marriage or reaching their mother's age at death.

Shaina was 14 when her mother died at 47. She turns 47 this year. Now a mother of teens and young adults, she faces uncharted territory. "Deep down inside, that little girl is just there saying I just want to hug my mom. I just want my mom to tell me it's going to be okay," she said.

If a mother dies old, daughters miss what they had. If young, they miss what they never had. Shaina feels a deep longing: "To be able to call your mom, to be able to ask her, How do I do this? What is happening to my body? What is happening in my heart, in my mind?"

Motherhood brought her a realization: "I realized what she lost when she died. I do not want to miss anything with my kids. They have hard times, they have good times. I want to be there for all of them."

Angela Schellenberg, a therapist and retreat co-facilitator, calls early maternal loss an attachment trauma. "It's a break in attachment, and that's traumatic, because your brain is constantly looking for your mother, and she's not there."

She said the gatherings heal through co-regulation, where nervous systems connect. "I know that sounds a little woo. It does! But there's something just about sitting in community, and that settles the nervous system."

Participants range from women in their 20s to those in their 80s. One said, "I didn't talk about my mom for at least 40 years."

Marcia Nowak, 81, called it beautiful to share as elders with the young. Shaina went 30 years without meeting others like her. She sees in them the best their mothers left behind: "Being able to see all of those moms together, and then I would look at their living daughters and what they've all accomplished and who they are, and I connected them, and it was powerful."

Edelman said both grief and celebration can coexist. "There will always be a tinge of sadness that pops up from time to time, because we wish our mom were there to witness our achievements, to help us through hard times," she said. "But we can celebrate her life in addition to grieving her absence. Both of those things can be true."