Mother’s Day Musings

 

Mother’s Day is a bitter-sweet holiday for me. 

From the time I was a young girl, I knew I wanted to be a mother above all things, and I’ve been blessed with three amazing children. They are all adults now (No grandchildren yet, darn it!) and this year I’ll spend Mother’s Day with two of them. The third lives to far away to come home, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed he’ll call. You see, he’s my free spirit, sometimes flaky, but loved-to-my-dying-breath oldest son. 

My daughter and other son plan on dragging me off to the beach, and since I grew up along the Oregon Coast and miss the ocean terribly at times, I’m looking forward to our day together. I think a vanilla latte might be in order. 

Plus, I know my hubby will spoil me, even though this year he’s going to be with his siblings and his mother for Mother’s Day. 

That’s the sweet party of Mother’s Day. 

The part  that stings is a little more difficult to share.

I grew up in an abusive home, mentally, physically, and verbally. My mother is mentally ill (untreated until just recently)  and anyone who has endured a childhood with a parent afflicted with that disease understands how difficult it can be when Father’s and Mother’s Day rolls around, and all the warm, loving sentiment you see others expressing, you cannot extend to your parent. In fact, being in the same room, is a tremendous stretch for you.

Forgiveness happened many years ago, but to protect myself, I have a very limited relationship with my mother. So, I want to wrap my arms around everyone else who finds themselves conflicted emotionally on this day  and give you a huge hug.  

Now, I was blessed to have a loving grandmother who considered me more of a daughter than granddaughter. She’s the woman I considered my mother until she died in a house fire. I know, awful, huh? Then there’s my itty-bitty 4’10” aunties who have been dual rudders of wisdom, offering me support and love, Those women have been surrogate mothers extraordinaire, and on this special day when we honor mothers, I’m sending bountiful love to them and every woman who has taken a child that wasn’t their own and mothered them.

Next, a special wish, everyone whose mother has died. Today may be difficult for you, especially if the loss is recent, or if your mother died when you were young. I pray the memories you have are tender, loving, sweet, and perhaps even silly and funny. I just want you to know that I’m thinking of you today. My cousin lost her battle with brain cancer many years ago and left three children behind. I know that when Mother’s Day rolls around every year, it’s a sad time for them. 

I don’t want to omit the women who want to be mother’s, but for whatever reason, haven’t had that blessing yet, or perhaps never will. If I could reach through my monitor and give you a huge squeeze, I would. I know Mother’s Day can be a painful reminder of a heart’s desire unfulfilled. 

And finally, to the mothers who have lost children, like a sweet friend of mine did just four days ago. May you find some small measure of peace and comfort on a day that cannot help but remind you of your tremendous loss. I haven’t experienced the loss of a child and won’t pretend to understand your devastation, but I can extend empathy, prayers, and good wishes your way.

I do hope that you spend Mother’s Day with someone you love,  but if you find yourself alone,  please accept my blessing from afar.

What is your fondest memory of Mother’s Day, either as a child or an adult?  I’d love to know.

xoxo

Collette