Tell her properly, for once
She knows you love her. She does not know you remember the lasagnes, the midnight lifts, the exact thing she said when it all fell apart. Flowers wilt by Friday — this is the year you put it in writing, where she can open it every time she needs reminding.
Create and preview your whole website for free. Pay once to unlock editing and publishing — no subscription.
Imagine: she opens a link expecting a nice card moment, and it's everything — itemised, with receipts, signed by the kid who never says this stuff.
Someone already made one like this
The year you put it in writing — the receipts, itemised, and a plain thank-you.
Open Mum's page →Moments to include
- Receipts of her being great, itemised
- The thing she did that you never acknowledged at the time
- The phrase of hers that comes out of your mouth now
- The story of her before she was 'Mum'
- What you understand now that you didn't at fifteen
- The plain thank you, with no joke attached to soften it
Only what fits — their page won't read like anyone else's.
How it comes together
You tell us about her in a short conversation — the stories, the sayings, the stuff you've never said. It becomes a page that sounds like you, which is precisely why it will get her.
Tell us about them
A short, calm conversation — who they are, what you're marking, the moments worth keeping.
Watch it take shape
A finished page appears, built around your words. Change anything just by saying so.
Hand it to them
A memorable address, shared by message or QR — or sealed until the exact moment you choose.
More ideas
See all ideas →Gratitude
Father's Day
Imagine: he reads it twice in silence, says 'very good', and you find out from Mum that he's opened it eleven times since.
Gratitude
Get well
Imagine: it's the long, flat hour of an afternoon on the ward, and they open a page that makes them laugh out loud — then cry a little, in the good way.
Love
Anniversary
Imagine: they open a link with their morning coffee and walk back through every year of you, ending on the thing you've never quite said out loud.
Asked, gently
Can my siblings add to it?
Yes — make it from all of you, with a guestbook for everyone's notes, or each write your own section. Mums keep score; cover your bases.
What if I'm not sure what to say?
You don't need the perfect words — a few honest specifics do more than a polished speech. The thing she did that you never acknowledged is a known devastator.
Will she manage to open it? She's not technical.
If she can open a link in a message, she's in. No apps, no accounts, nothing to install — and it's designed to be read on the phone in her hand.
Isn't this a lot for Mother's Day?
It's one honest page versus another bunch of petrol-station flowers. She has spent decades on you. An evening of your words is not a lot.
Someone you love should know exactly how you feel.
Free to begin & preview — from $9.99 when you're ready to give it.