My Mother - Your Mother, His Mother, Her Mother

Although I am the lucky mother of two beautifully, brilliant boys, Mother’s Day just isn’t the same without my mom.  Having lost my mom 5 years ago, Mother’s Day has since felt hollow, dull and sad. Perhaps it is the day when the loss is most poignant, a stabbing reminder that she is gone.

I remember her living days well, when Mother’s Day was a day we spent celebrating the many sacrifices she made.  The way she pushed through constraints to learn, grow and continue her path of becoming a better mother, a better human being.  Like so many mothers, hers was a story of hardship, courage, love and hope. She worked tirelessly to improve her situation for herself and her children.  An accounting of her 8 children, coupled with the many others’ lives she positively impacted would render a very successful 69 years on this Earth. And yet my own journey of coming to terms with her loss has been and continues to be messy, laiden with many contradictions, differing perspectives depending on the year, month, day and even the moment - and oh my, the feelings!

Processing my various feelings over the years has been an adventure.  In the beginning it was easy, easy to be with the immense grief and sadness, allowing the raw emotion to have its way with me.  Body and legs hurting, and eyes glassy with perpetual water works. As the years passed though, things became difficult in unexpected ways.  I have found her continued and persistent absence on the phone, at family events, my children’s milestones and all Holiday celebrations, heart breaking.

I imagine, then, it all makes perfect sense, the irony of how the hardening of grief takes its sweet time settling in.  It’s taken its time to settle within my heart. So subtle, its shielding, that no notice is taken. Until one day, when life seems to have moved forward, away from, or numb of the constant reminders - There she is, knocking.  Playfully at first, like a game of hide-and-seek, and then gently and elusive like a floating butterfly. Until she is clamoring, hitting me over the heart and head, dismantling my shield, asking me to pay attention. Pay attention to how I am responding to life.  Am I allowing your mother, her mother, his mother to be my mother too?...the way she was a mother figure to others in need of a motherly figure?

And so it is that I’ve begun yet another journey in processing my feelings, integrating the newness into the old.  I’m not sure where I’ll land on this one, it seems daunting to allow and accept the sweetness of a Mother’s Love flow.  If it can be, it is because she loved me so.

Happy Heavenly Mother’s Day Mom, thanks for being my mom. I love and miss you!

What are your experiences with Mother’s Day? Happy, sad, nonexistent, they are all relevant, I hope you’ll share yours.

Love,

Sara