I hate Mother's Day.
I hate Mother's Day.
I dislike it as much as a single person can't stand Valentine's Day, I would imagine.
I have hated it for years-
partially because I hope someone will take initiative and plan something spectacular for me... and partially because I am a motherless mother.
My kids are teenagers- and my husband is a sweetheart that "wants to do whatever you want to do" but doesn't have any ideas.
Last night one of our dogs got into our room. I have a box of memories, one box- holds my mother's murder articles printed on thirty-year-old newspaper. I have the only pictures of my grandparents, and the only picture I have of my parents.
Pictures are such funny things- everyone complains about taking them, but they are absolutely sacred when they are the only thing you have left to remember your lost loved ones by.
My dog got into the box and took out an envelope that had a dozen irreplaceable pictures in it. She ripped them to pieces and we found them scattered in the backyard.
the night before Mother's Day.
And it is absolutely beyond my comprehension why in the world she would choose that box and why she would want to rip up my pictures... but she did.
And I've been filled with a fit of blunt anger ever since.
Yesterday I said I wanted to go to the beach. We even went shopping for new bathing suits. After checking out, we came home to the mess of lost memories.
And I didn't want to go to the beach anymore.
I was so upset I couldn't even cry. I still haven't.
I went to bed and I said I would spend my mother's day cleaning the house... because no one else was going to-
And no one had any plans to do anything else.
I was so angry I couldn't fall asleep. I sat on the couch and stared into the dark abyss hoping my Mother's ghost would appear and tell me everything was going to be fine, maybe tell me I'm doing a good job as a mother and to try and enjoy my day-
but she didn't.
I finally crawled into my bed at about 4:30 AM and slept on the very edge, because that's what I do when I want my husband to know I'm upset. I guess I hope he'll wake up from his slumber and hold me, hold me tight enough I can cry and move on...
but he always gives me my space.
He normally wakes up before I do.
This morning I didn't wake up to breakfast in bed, but I got a dozen text messages, wishing me Happy Mother's day-
friends and family saying what a good mom I am and how much they love me.
It was bittersweet writing them back, knowing my day was not planned to be filled with magic.
I got up and brushed my teeth, then I started the kettle for my coffee.
I took a few sips and I started cleaning.
Everyone started cleaning- my kids forgot what day it was, they didn't wish me Happy Mother's day until they were reminded.
I cleaned out my dresser drawers and just about every piece of clothing I had hanging up in my closet.
I am six months pregnant- I am bigger than I've ever been in my life and there is no way I'm going to fit into a size small or even a medium any time soon. They were all just hanging there, staring at me- I work from home and I don't wear any of them anymore. I don't go anywhere to dress up anymore. I needed to make room for all the sweatpants that covered my floor. I have a mountain of clothes that need to be put away and I had no place to put them-
I needed the space.
I figured by the time I lose weight I would buy myself some new clothes.
my room started to look worse before it looked any better.
I backed everything up to donate and still had three bags of trash to throw away. I cleaned for two hours before it got bigger than I was, and I took a rest to lie down.
I laid there and thought about how the remainder of the day was going to play out.
No one was coming to save me and no one was going to make me stop cleaning.
It took me a full hour to get the strength to clean the toilet. I was sick of seeing how bad it needed the wipe down every time I went in there.
I scrubbed the bowl, and everything else then I drew the line-
It's Mother's Day.
This was not how I was going to spend my Mother's day.
I washed my hands and changed my clothes.
I sprayed myself with perfume to mask the fact I needed a shower and I put on my sunglasses. And I left.
I didn't tell anyone where I was going.
I had absolutely no plans, but I drove an hour roundtrip to have lunch with my girlfriend. She knew today would be hard for me, it's the same every year- and we had
made plans to go to the beach together. She treated me and we laughed about our lives. We laughed about where we were and how far we'd come... even if one single day felt like a setback- we're both farther and better than we've ever been.
I ate until I couldn't eat anymore- and then we parted ways.
It's Sunday, I googled where to get a haircut.
I drove six miles past her apartment and sat in the chair of a lady from a country whose accent I could barely understand. She told me she was taking her citizenship test tomorrow and then asked me how long I wanted my layers for the trim.
I asked if she had any children, and she asked me about my mother. We didn't talk much after I told her my mother had passed... but she gave me a great blowout. I guess that's the funny thing about death- it stops the conversation.
I thanked her and wished her the best of luck on her citizenship, she made me feel like a million bucks.
After my style, I walked to Publix. I got myself some chocolate-covered strawberries and watched the florist change the price tag from the full bouquets down to $5.
I got five bunches of flowers.
3 for myself- one from each of my children...
And then I put one on my Mother's and one on my Grandmother's headstones. They're buried less than five miles from my house, and right next to each other.
Then I came home from my adventures and made myself a pot of tea. I gifted myself a tea set, I've wanted one for about as long as I've hated Mother's day...
I bought myself a case of flower teas, you can watch the flower bloom as it steeps.
I ate my chocolate-covered strawberries and drank my hot tea, then I took a much-needed shower.
I hope your Mother's day was good- even if it wasn't that doesn't make you any less of a great mom.
And If your day was anything like mine, I hope you made it count for yourself.
you are loved.
Happy Mother's day.