Say that title five times fast please.
Mother’s Day is right around the corner. This is my 15th one without my mom being here and my 7th as being one. (Although since Will is already saying he’s 8 because it’s his 8th year on earth..maybe I should round up as well).
The first few years after my mom died, I found this time of year absolutely unbearable. Every trip to the mall, every commercial, every flyer in the paper all focussed on what I didn’t have. It was like a scab being ripped off multiple times a day for about a month. The day after Mother’s Day felt so freeing. It meant I wouldn’t be bursting into tears out of the blue when a bus with an ad would stop next to me at a red light. I could breathe.
Then I had Will. And it has changed somewhat. I no longer feel that aching hole on Mother’s Day. I look forward to what hideous but thoughtful piece of arts and craft will come home that he is so proud to give me. I adore my smothering of Mother’s Day kisses that are both given and received all day.
When I thought about having a kid without my mom here to help me, it was all about worrying about what I didn’t know. How could I handle it without her when he’s sick? Who would help me get him in line when he was acting up? Would I know what to feed him when he started on solids? Before my mom died she assured me that she had already taught me everything that I needed to know and that I would be an amazing mom….and that she was very sad she wouldn’t get to see it.
And now that I have a bit of experience at this mom thing, I do feel like she taught me what I needed to know, and that combined with my gut instinct is getting me through. But what I do miss is just having her here to enjoy him.
I feel like this year, as my parenting confidence has grown, my sadness over her absence has turned to rage. I’m so mad that they don’t get to know each other. Mad that she’s missing watching this incredible kid grow up. Mad that he’s missing her spoiling. I feel like they’ve both been robbed of what would have been a relationship for the ages. I’m mad that he doesn’t get to hear her laugh at his dumb jokes. Mad that he doesn’t get to snuggle with her on weekend mornings while she reads her paper and has her coffee.
I’m a pretty spiritual person. I know she’s around us. Last Friday was my birthday and I was really, really missing her. I had some friends over and out of nowhere, a picture of us that has sat on my mantle for years, fell off. There were no kids around to jostle it, the wild dance party was in the kitchen. But off it fell. I guess she was just reminding me that she’s here and watching.
It’s comforting. But it’s not the same. It’s not the same in the least.
So hey cancer..f(*k you.