It’s almost Mother’s Day and for as long as I can remember, it has been a day occupied with countless emotions.
At times, I have approached this day with utter dread. I dread the Hallmark card commercials and florist advertisements. I scoff at those happy mother and child clichés, thinking how out of touch with reality they are. Don’t they know that’s not the way it really is for some of us?
At other times, when my self-pity is at bay, I have so much joy and contentment. I vividly remember my first Mother’s Day with my oldest daughter. I recall opening the gift she and her dad had given me, an orange-flowered nightgown and robe. We had a late big breakfast and later napped together on the couch. I will always remember that feeling and have since had many, many lovely days with my girls. I am amazed and proud and grateful to be a mother.
But, sometimes at the end of my Mother’s Day, I am suddenly taken aback. I forgot her, I scold. I forgot to remember that I am motherless.
I wish I could hire an investigator to find her, like the television show, Long Lost Family. I fantasize that someone would locate her and we would have a wonderful reunion. But alas, all inquiries stop short for the dead.
“Come on,” you may say, “It’s time to get over it…let her go.” The reality is, this is “me” after more than sixty years of letting go. I had no choice, except to do so, and now I can honestly say I feel contentment and even happiness despite the fact of her vacancy. But, still….I miss her. I miss not having a mother. I feel cheated sometimes.
Every year I make a decision to celebrate Mother’s Day. I do so by honoring her memory and acknowledging there is a glorious piece of her in me and in my girls. She is with me, I know.
Abraham Lincoln once said: “I remember my mother’s prayers and they have always followed me. They have clung to me all of my life.” I certainly believe this to be true. I may not remember my mother’s prayers, but I know she breathed them as she said her goodbyes; I know she whispered into God’s ear to especially watch over my brother and me. I have felt her prayers all of my life.
Mother’s Day is unique for everyone. Many of us honor the memory of our mothers. Some of us are fortunate enough to have our mothers nearby and able to celebrate a day and a lifetime of love.
However this Mother’s Day looks for you, I pray that there are peaceful, loving thoughts and heart connections. I encourage you to be the last to let go of a long, tight hug. Whether your celebration is lavish and boisterous, or a quiet, respectful chat at the grave site, I applaud you. Happy Mother’s Day to all mother’s everywhere.