This was written last May and posted on my private blog. I didn't think this year would be as hard as last. And it's not.
As hard.
But shopping for Mother's Day Cards for my mother-in-law caused a bit of a lump in my throat. Reading all the sappy-sweet sentiments. It just all came flooding back. Again.
I may or may not have been crabby ever since {hubs - you have never commented before, now would not be a good time to start}.
- May 7, 2010 -
It’s almost here. I can feel it coming. And I am dreading it already — my first Mother’s Day without my mother.
There is no way around it.
I must face it head-on.
Or, at least face it.
There is no way around it.
I must face it head-on.
Or, at least face it.
It hit me yesterday like a ton of bricks. It had not previously even occurred to me as something I would dread. But the grocery store with the flowers and cards and flowers and cakes and flowers and gift suggestions. It felt like the world was slapping me in the face over and over again to constantly and annoyingly remind me: you don't have a mother.
And it was just all too much.
And it was just all too much.
Funny the way grief surprises you like that, like a child popping from behind a door: ”BOO!” If you asked me two days ago how I was dealing with my grief, I would have said: ”Fine. I feel like I’m out of the woods.” Wrong. Now I cannot even see the woods through the tears.
But Mother’s Day is a day to simply honor mothers and the institution of motherhood. I can still do that. I too am a mother. And I had a wonderful, caring mother. I grieve the loss of her in my daily life, but it does not diminish her lasting impact on me.
Her impact on my life.
Her very being is so intertwined with mine that I cannot see where one stops and the other begins. I may not have always wanted to admit this, but how can it not be true? Just as I am with my children, she too was with me — marveling at first words, steps, heartbreaks, upsets, successes and, of course, the ordinary daily-ness of life.
Her impact on my life.
Her very being is so intertwined with mine that I cannot see where one stops and the other begins. I may not have always wanted to admit this, but how can it not be true? Just as I am with my children, she too was with me — marveling at first words, steps, heartbreaks, upsets, successes and, of course, the ordinary daily-ness of life.
Motherhood is a privilege and a miracle. It can bring you to your knees and provide limitless joy.
Sometimes within a few seconds of each other.
That is what I will celebrate on Sunday. Not my loss, but what we share forever after — the bond of motherhood.
Sometimes within a few seconds of each other.
That is what I will celebrate on Sunday. Not my loss, but what we share forever after — the bond of motherhood.