Mother’s Day is coming up and it is such a mixed bag for me.
I do not communicate with my mother. So this day with all its reverence for the holy mommy that gave us life and nurtured us and made us what we are and our shiny hero can be hard to take.
On the other hand, I have been extraordinarily blessed with surrogate moms in the form of my Grandmothers, teachers, a mother-in-law, and those temporary moms who just stumbled across me and took me under their (angel) wings when I needed it most.
And I am a mom that (knock on wood) is still on good terms with her kids.
So I am somewhere between spitting out a bitter mouthful of hooey and bring on the construction paper handprints and glittery cards filled with pastel flowers and butterflies!
On Mother’s Day, I acknowledge the Grandmas who I am still blessed to have around. I also send a prayer up for my mother. While she can’t be in my life, I don’t wish her ill (anymore). And DH is pretty great at making the day special for me (assisting Little Sir). Gorgeous Gal comes through too. I got one gift early this year and very nearly cried with joy because it was something I have always wanted. (I’m not trying to be mysterious, but the story of this gift deserves it’s own post.) On Mother’s Day, I am grateful for the mothering I received from others and the chances to mother that I have been given (through giving birth, foster parenting, step parenting and any other kids I could manage to find).
But there is always a moment in the day where I mourn what can not be. Sometimes it comes in the shower or as I put on my shoes. Sometimes it is in a quiet moment before the waitress comes with menus or seeing a woman in a crowd that resembles my mother. Sometimes it’s the so-sweet-my-teeth-hurt posts on facebook. And I am reminded of what I did not and do not have.
And it is sad.
But I do not let that sadness shadow my whole day. My mother created enough shade in my life. So I feel the coolness of the shade of what did happen and should not have happened. Of what I was supposed to have and did not. Of icy breeze of what is rather than what could be. Or should be.
And I then take a few steps in to the Light.
The Light of love coming from unexpected sources if only we can manage to turn and look somewhere else…for someone else to provide what we need. And even manage to give it to ourselves when no one else can. I step out of the shadowy past and into the Light of love I have today. I turn to feel it warm on my face. And soul.
And it is good.
Father’s Day is like that for me.