Mother’s Day is one of those days I want to brush off as simply a “Hallmark Card Holiday” but deep down I know it is more than that. I have such a (for lack of a better word) interesting relationship with this so called holiday that most years I simply I do not know how to process it all. I find myself incredibly envious of those who have that mother/daughter relationship I never had the opportunity to develop and at the same time I am equally ambivalent and at a loss on this day dedicated to all that mom means to us.
My own mother died in the Summer of 1986 and this particular Mother’s day marks 30 years since I have had a mother..in some odd way I feel like a fraud because I had no business becoming a mother when I had very limited experience with being mothered let alone being a mom. I see so many posts today by people who love and genuinely miss their mothers..I honestly miss the thought of my mother more than I miss my actual mother. There I admitted it finally ..and I can’t say it feels good to get that off my chest but it does feel genuine.
Madeline got sick when I was 16 years old, our relationship was never one I would define as close. I think our distance is because she built a wall between us very early on probably based on her own experiences with her mother (whom I never met) and some of the choices my mother made that resulted in my arrival. I often wonder if she lived, if things progressed beyond the angst of my teenaged years if things would be different, if I would feel different ..if I would feel a great loss for the person who was my mother? Unfortunately for me, I will never have an answer to those questions only what ifs. I am aware that loss and the what ifs that tag along are the ghosts that haunt my own motherhood. How I wish I had a picture that I could post and a true sentiment of missing my mother to share with the world..all I have is regret and a longing for what should have been. I know deep down inside every time my mother looked at me she saw her own bitterness and heartbreak reflecting back at her. My mother’s pain manifested in me through no fault of mine other than I existed.
I am blessed in my adult life with amazing human beings who call me mom. I fret and I worry every single day if they are happy, if they are living lives that bring them joy and satisfaction if they know just how genuinely loved they really are by me. I pray I did the right things by them..I know I messed up often but I relied upon life experiences with other women to be my northern star guiding me upon the motherhood journey. All I ever wanted was to be here for these beautiful souls who were sent my way to walk this path in life together.
Still there are days I long to be mothered. There are days I ache inside to know I was wanted and loved by the woman who gave me life..my mother. There are days I long to hear my mother say I am doing ok, that my babies..her grandchildren are going to be ok. I long to create a post with a picture and put it on Facebook to let the world know that I am part of a tribe of strong and loving women ..a branch on my mother’s strongly rooted tree…but I realize I have to be my own tree.