The Evolving Nature of Mother's Day

My spirit has housed countless thoughts and emotions over the years as the calendar page turns to May.  For so long...maybe too long, sadness would cover the days leading up to Mother's Day.  It was impossible not to miss the Hallmark advertisements which seemed to taunt me with the absence of my mother Violet.  Observing women shopping together, who were so clearly mother and daughter, only reinforced the empty space I felt. Throughout the seasons I have continued to be "surprised" at how her loss has forever impacted and shaped my life.  It's only through the eyes of others who relayed their thoughts to me that I even have a picture of who she was to me as my mother.   What stands out for me is that it has been her loss over 50 years rather than her presence over five years which is etched on my soul.  Or perhaps her loss is her presence.

At some point, I began to experience gratitude encircling that space.  Gratitude for the joy and privilege I have been given to be a mother to my son and daughter.  I have already lived in the rich expanse of motherhood 26 years longer than my mother was able.  I count this an incredible honor and blessing.  Motherhood has had its chapters of challenge and struggle but it's a story that has and continues to shape me and add wealth to my soul. 

 

 Many Mother's Days have passed in which I have watched friends lose their beloved mothers.  Other friends who are mothers have lost their tiny babes; a reality I can't begin to comprehend.  The cumulative river of tears and heartache makes one want to stamp "Canceled" on this day set aside for celebration.  But this does not happen and so we make room for sadness on Mother's Day.  There needs to be.

This particular Mother's Day is strong with emotion.  Joy and sadness, birth and death woven together.  I celebrate and I remember and grieve.

Adding a daughter-in-law to our family 7 1/2 years ago was and is a delightful gift.  Though I did not mother her, still I have the joy of loving her and watching she and my son write their own story.
On January 5 I watched with awe as she became a mother herself.   Oh how she loves her son!   Natasha Gregson Wagner captures the image of my daughter-in-law when she write, "I thought my mom's whole purpose was to be my mom.  That's how she made me feel."   I cannot get enough of seeing her interact with this precious, brand new life.  She is so deeply in tune with being a mother.  To be a part of their growing relationship makes my heart sing.

 

 On January 30 my stepmom went to be with Jesus.  She mothered me in sacrificial, loving ways for almost fifty years.  Throughout the years my understanding of what it meant for her to give herself to me has grown exponentially.   In turn I live in this spacious appreciation and gratitude for all the ways she mothered me.   I know I am only beginning to comprehend her absence.  I recently finished reading, "Motherless Daughters --A Legacy of Loss".  I have read bits and pieces over the years but only recently, in its entirety.  The thought I can't shake is, "Now I truly am a motherless daughter". 

The current restrictions keeping us safe are also preventing us from celebrating and grieving in the ways which are most meaningful. Even if it were possible I would run out of time and energy to lavish love and kindnesses on the vast array of mothers and motherless daughters who hold a special places in my heart.  In simpler ways...

I will remember friends and family who achingly miss their own Mama

My cross-the-country daughter will come to me on a Whatsapp screen.  

It's our "normal" and I will celebrate being her Mama

I will stand six feet apart from my son, daughter-in-law and grandson 

while I celebrate their full life and my own full heart

I will remember my mother, Violet with some sadness that she's not here, 

but gratitude because she was.  

And I will remember my stepmom Dorothy,

 with sadness that she had to leave us

yet grateful for the ways in which she remains.