I’m the motherless mother of an only child who has died and Mother’s Day is right around the corner.
On that particular Sunday, you’ll most likely find me and my dogs hidden away in my bed with my comforter wrapped around the three of us. I won’t leave the house and I probably won’t answer the phone. It’s a day that I need to just be disconnected from the syrupy sweet, Hallmark induced, love coma that covers the rest of the world. I don’t want to deal with a series of reminders that there will be no more Mother’s Day celebrations for me. It might be better to just stay inside my own head instead of putting on a fake smile that will only end in tears.
But that one day is really not the worst of it. The worst part is the buildup. In the weeks before Mother’s Day, commercials are filled with beautiful young children presenting their Crayola artwork to their adored mothers. Others have sale after sale on all the things mothers are supposed to love – jewelry, flowers and even ice cream cakes from Dairy Queen. And it doesn’t stop with TV. These same types of ads pop up on my Facebook feed, in my junk mail and on signs in every store. It’s inescapable. And with each one that I see, I’m again reminded that my days of celebrating Mother’s Day are over.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m not advocating for a boycott or anything silly like that. Some of my fondest memories are of the Mother’s Days I spent with Peyton and with my own mom and I truly believe that every mother should celebrate her day in whatever way she wants. But knowing that memories already made are the only ones I’ll ever have is a hard pill to swallow. So, here is the dilemma. I sit here sounding like I loathe everything that is Mother’s Day, but I really don’t. I just wish things were different. At the same time too, I’m scared that no one else will remember that I’m still a mom. That’s really the crux of it. I’m not ready to give up my Mom membership card, but the only proof I have that I was ever initiated into the club sits in a few photo albums and in my memory. But, in my heart of hearts and in my soul of souls, I know that I am still a mom. I am the mom to a wonderfully complex, sweet and perfect boy. I am mom to Peyton.
To all the mothers in the world, I wish you a peaceful and joy filled Mother’s Day. Really I do. I swear. All I ask is that in the midst of your celebration, no matter how big or small, you take a moment and remember the other mothers who may not get to celebrate with their babies. You don’t have to do anything special, just remember them and maybe say their child’s name out loud. That’s all.
PS – to my own sweet Momma – I miss you. I hope that Peyton and Daddy make you a Heavenly breakfast in bed on Mother’s Day. I love you, Mamacita.