“One day” finally arrived, Monica’s Story
When my baby sister left the house for college last month, my mom asked me to come take a few pictures to document the day she became an empty-nester —a request that turned into one of the most meaningful projects I’ve done. Through my lens, I saw the quiet strength and grace behind all the sacrifices she’s made, and the beauty of a woman rediscovering herself after 30 years of motherhood. Her openness and the words she shared alongside these portraits made me deeply grateful—not only for her trust, but for the reminder of how fleeting these years are with my own young kids—the chaos, the noise, the magic of it all—and how I want to hold onto it while it’s here.
Below I’ve included the photos I took, my mom’s reflections about her three decades of motherhood, and my own reflections as I consider what her perspective might mean for my own motherhood journey.
Mom’s reflections
My reflections
Empty House, Portraits of Motherhood, 2025
Mom: I can't believe thirty years have passed since becoming a mother. Even more surreal is that my youngest child has moved out and is now on her own. For the first time in 30 years the house is empty.
Me: I’m seven years into my motherhood journey and it’s hard for me to imagine an empty house without belly laughs, daily requests for pb&j’s, and elaborate bedtime routines.
Thick of Motherhood, Portraits of Motherhood, 2025
They tell you it happens in the blink of an eye. I believe it now. It’s hard to see it when you’re in the thick of motherhood. The days are long, demanding, draining at times. But, Oh! The good days are magical, and make you wish you could stop time.
I’m in the “thick of motherhood” and the days ARE long, demanding, and draining. At the end of a long day it can be hard to see the magic in it through tired eyes. There are glimpses where I see the truth in what my mom says. Like looking over at my 7-year-old and realizing he’s growing up and no longer the toddler I make him out to be in my mind. Looking back at photos from 2, 3, 4 years ago and realizing how much has changed in such a short time. It makes me wonder, how much more will change in the next 2, 3, 4 years?
They’re Gone, Portraits of Motherhood, 2025
"Never grow up," we say. "Please stay little!" We also tell ourselves to enjoy it while it lasts because one day they’ll be gone.
I tell myself this all the time. The thought of my precious little kids growing up simultaneously shatters my heart and also fills me with curiosity of who they’ll become. It is hard for me to bear the thought of them being anything other than what they are right now, so I tell myself, “they’ll stay little a little longer, right?”
Waiting, Portraits of Motherhood, 2025
That “one day” finally arrived at my door. The same door where, thousands of times, my children came in and out of, on their way to school, dance, sports, play time, dating, missions. Then one day, one by one, each one walked out for the last time.
I can attest to the fact that my mom came in and out of that door multiple times a day on my behalf. She spent hours driving me to dance and other commitments, often bringing me a hot dinner to eat in-between activities. My own kids come in and out of our home constantly throughout the day, but I can’t imagine them walking out and then wondering when they will walk through my door again.
Quiet Home, Portraits of Motherhood, 2025
The empty home is now orderly, clean, quiet, all to myself. It sounded so nice back then, it feels quite different now. But the nest is not really empty. It’s filled with memories of what once was. The walls still echo the sound of laughter, music, hurried steps and endless conversations. Each room, hallway, door and window has a story to tell. The house now stands as a testimony that it's true, it all happened here. It was well loved and well lived.
As someone who is borderline OCD, I can assure you that I try to keep my home orderly and clean. That usually happens in a daily tidying ritual between the hours of 8-10pm once the kids are in bed. But maybe all that effort to keep it clean is missing the point. Maybe all of those toys, crumbs and piles of laundry that I try so hard to clean, or the laughter, giggles, crying and whining will one-day be those memories that echo through an empty house.
Home has been my world, Portraits of Motherhood, 2025
Home has been my world, my work space, my happy place, my heart and soul. Homemaking and motherhood gave me a higher purpose. I’m grateful for what it helped me become. I’m “just” a mom, but there’s nothing else I’d rather be.
To me, she is way more than “just” a mom. She is an incredible mother, a true magic-maker, she filled our home with beauty and safety. She showed up for five children ever day for thirty years, and continues to do so for an ever-growing family. For me, motherhood hasn’t always been my happy place, but it does fill my heart and soul with love and the deepest sense of fulfillment. Instead of being “just” a mom, I’ve decided that I want to be a mom “and” an artist. I am grateful for a mother who has helped me see value in motherhood as I work to find the balance between my family and my art.
The Home and I, Portraits of Motherhood, 2025
Nowadays, the home and I keep each other company. We sit quietly, and take it all in; our hearts filled with love and gratitude for what we created together. What a team!
I love the idea that home holds your memories, and isn’t necessarily even tied to a specific home. It’s the feeling of being together, the feeling of memories past, and those to come. Home is a feeling that forever resides in your heart. Words can’t express how grateful I am for my mother and the home she created for us. It was one of traditions, memories, laughter, love, and beauty. What more could you ask for as a child?
I See You Now, Portraits of Motherhood, 2025
The Hostess, Portraits of Motherhood, 2025
