Sunday, May 11, 2014

A motherless daughter on Mother's Day

I hate Mother's Day.
There, I said it.
Does that make me a bad person, a bad mother?
I don't know.

I've always secretly hated Mother's Day.  
You see, my mom died of breast cancer when I was four years old.  Mother's Day was just another reminder that she was gone and I was alone.  I miss her so much. 
So much that it physically hurts sometimes.

I have a small hand full of pictures of her.

This is one:

I don’t want to forget her. 
Sometimes I force myself to think about memories that don’t have any photographic evidence to support them, just so that they don’t fade away. But at this point, my life memories that don’t include her far outnumber those that do.

She is so beautiful, and I see a bit of her in all of my babies.
It should be a comfort, but it's not.  
It makes me miss her so much more.  
I wish she could have known them!  
Oh, how she would have loved them!

I just feel cheated on Mother's Day.  She was taken too soon and I never got to really know her. I never got the chance to ask her all those life questions that a girl needs answered by her mama.  Questions that come up when you’re first engaged, how to take care of a house and new husband, questions when you're told you're going to be a mother yourself, and how to deal with little ones as they grow up.  And no matter how old I get, the hurt never lessens when one of those 'mother' questions comes up 
(and at the age of 45 they still haven't stopped coming up!).

I had a miscarriage on Mother's Day several years ago.
It was almost more than I could bear, I needed my mom more that day than any other.

I also hate that my children feel obligated to me on Mother's Day.  Sure, the handmade cards and gifts are wonderful, but I don't need them to know that they love me.  I don't want the kids to feel like they HAVE to do anything special, I don't want them to make a fuss over me.

This Mother's Day I think I'm packing up the kids and heading to the beach.  I'm going to sit in the sand with a tall glass of iced tea and stare at the waves for hours until the sun sets.  Then we'll come home and I'll probably have a good cry in the shower.

And tomorrow I can get back to my life...
until next year.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

The more of you I read the more I like. Bless your heart!