Mother’s Day is a good day. It’s supposed to be a good day, right?
It is a good day.
For me, it is good. As a mom, it’s a day when I can say that you HAVE to give me a hug because it’s Mother’s Day! It’s a day when my kids shower me with paper cupcakes and flowers they made at school. They sing me songs and daddy fixes me breakfast with the new griddle he bought me (yes, he bought me a griddle)
there is still a Mother’s Day for people who don’t have mothers any longer. People who feel cheated because their mothers aren’t around. My grandmother adopted me and was, by all accounts, my mother. She raised me and taught me how to change a tire. She showed me how to “deep clean” and that I should actually move things on the counter when I am wiping it down. She was the woman I most admired (and hated sometimes) and she had the audacity to die when I was only 25. She never met my kids. She never met my husband. She couldn’t answer the million questions I’ve had over the last 15 years. How long do you boil an egg for? What do you do when your baby won’t stop crying? When do you stop bottle feeding? How do you potty train a kid? Google became my mother… it became the thing I rely on because I have no one else to ask.
My ‘real mom’ was the person who actually gave birth to me, although she was more like a cool, older sister. She had me when she was young and was never really a super maternal person. She loved me, I am sure of that. But she had some issues and things she needed to work out and other issues that she never did. I loved her, and she loved me. She loved me enough to let me go and live with and be adopted by my grandparents. She was beautiful and interesting. She loved to read and was there for me when I was homeless in college. She gave me somewhere to crash until I got my life together. She never judged me. She died 3 years ago.
The thing is, it is never the same. Once your mom dies (whoever that person is to you) there is never another person who can or will be able to take their place. I am 40 years old and I still have moments when I feel like I want to go home. What does that mean? Of course, I don’t literally want to go home..but I think it means I want to go back to a time when there was a person alive who loved me and took care of me, who could answer all my questions.
I am right now the age she was when I came into her life. She was 40 and I had 25 years with her. Some were wasted and some weren’t that great. But she was always my mama. She always did the best she could, right or wrong, she tried.
As I get older, I realize she didn’t necessarily have all the answers…she was probably just as clueless as I am -kind of a strange thought. She was really convincing though, I really did think she knew it all.
I love my kids and because of them, I like Mother’s Day. I do feel a little cheated that I don’t have my either of my moms anymore, but life goes on. And who could be all that sad when they have these 3 crazy kids in their life?
Happy Mother’s Day =)