Mothering Sunday, a pause before we open
Mothering Sunday in the UK carries many stories at once. Its roots lie not in set‑menus and gift bundles but in a simple act of return: people went back to their “mother” church, their home place, for a day in the middle of Lent. Today the day is wrapped in flowers, cards and lunches out, but beneath all that is a quieter thread about belonging, nurture and homecoming.
This year, while so many dining rooms and restaurants are full and families gather at familiar tables, ours at The Glebe Kitchen in the hotel are still empty. Our season begins on 7 April, so Mothering Sunday for us is not a rush of bookings but a moment of stillness. It is a chance to pause and think about the welcome we are preparing – for all who will come through our doors in the months ahead.
We know this day lands differently for different people. For some, it is a day of deep gratitude for mothers who are present, loving and well. For others, it brings the ache of bereavement, distance, strained relationships, or the longing to be a parent that has not been fulfilled. Some have been “mothered” by grandparents, aunts, foster carers, older siblings or friends; others carry the complicated experience of having to mother themselves. Many simply find the public celebration hard to bear.
So rather than focusing only on biological motherhood, we want to honour the wider work of “mothering”: the countless acts of care, protection and encouragement that help another person feel at home in the world. Mothering can look like cooking a favourite meal after a long journey, listening without judgement, keeping a light on when someone is late back, or quietly noticing what will make another person more comfortable. It is something expressed by people of many genders, ages and roles, in families formed by birth and in those formed by choice.
In hospitality, we see echoes of this every day of the season. Setting a table with thought, remembering how a guest takes their tea, making space for celebration and for sorrow – these are small, ordinary gestures, yet they are part of the same instinct to nurture. As we ready The Glebe Kitchen and the hotel for reopening, we are not only polishing glasses and checking rooms; we are preparing a place where people can be met with that kind of attentive care.
On this Mothering Sunday, with our doors still closed, we simply want to say: whoever you are, and however this day feels to you – joyful, painful or somewhere in between – you are held in our thoughts. If you are celebrating, may it be a day of warmth. If you are grieving or weary, may you find a measure of rest and gentleness. And when April comes and we open again, we look forward to welcoming you back to our table, to share good food, stories and the kind of easy, unhurried time together that so many of us long for.
Until then, we wish you a quiet, reflective Mothering Sunday, and we give thanks for all who mother, in every sense of the word.
