Mothers. We all have them, we were all delivered into this world by a woman and, many of us, were then raised by the same woman for better or worse.
This is the weekend when my feed will be filled with happy photos of friends with their mothers, out to lunch or just spending time together. There will be proclamations of love, proclamations of how wonderful and blessed they were to have been raised by such a woman and the valuable life skills they received. For those whose mothers have passed on, there will maybe be candles posted as they talk about how they miss their mother still.
For some of us, Mother's Day is a reminder that we didn't win that particular lottery. We didn't get the wonderful mother who juggled providing for us and giving us opportunities. Our childhoods weren't filled with special moments and memories of our mothers, we aren't left with that pull to spend time with her.
I have my own children now and I will spend time with them, just like I do every day. I will let them pick out what to make for lunch and help them make it and they will get to spend the afternoon, like they do most every Sunday afternoon, finding whatever catches their attention to play with. The mother/daughter memories I have are not ones I wish to recreate with them. When they are older, maybe I will make a tradition, something we can go do together that is special to this day, but it feels a bit wrong to plan an execute my own celebration.
My children know every day that I love them and that I want them to grow into the best versions of themselves that they can be. They are unaware of the sacrifices I've made, the endless hours of researching and worrying about my choices for them, the really big ones that could impact their lives later. Will postponing a surgery now cause him bigger problems later? Will allowing them to homeschool and move at their desired pace leave them suffering later?
I can't wrap my mind around the idea of someone having children they didn't want simply because they were told they should, a fact an aunt shared with me as an adult but I had known since I was a child. The fact that we were unwanted was felt in everything, every time we were an inconvenience, every time we didn't perform perfectly and on cue.
I knew from very young that Mother's Day wasn't the type of holiday meant for our family. Sure, we made the crafts at church and at school, but when you're that kid when got that mother, you knew never to get your hopes up that your small tokens of admiration would be well received.
When April First rolls around every year, people share reminders about not being hurtful to others who my be suffering, but no one seems to consider that Mother's Day chould cause just as much pain.
This is the weekend when my feed will be filled with happy photos of friends with their mothers, out to lunch or just spending time together. There will be proclamations of love, proclamations of how wonderful and blessed they were to have been raised by such a woman and the valuable life skills they received. For those whose mothers have passed on, there will maybe be candles posted as they talk about how they miss their mother still.
For some of us, Mother's Day is a reminder that we didn't win that particular lottery. We didn't get the wonderful mother who juggled providing for us and giving us opportunities. Our childhoods weren't filled with special moments and memories of our mothers, we aren't left with that pull to spend time with her.
I have my own children now and I will spend time with them, just like I do every day. I will let them pick out what to make for lunch and help them make it and they will get to spend the afternoon, like they do most every Sunday afternoon, finding whatever catches their attention to play with. The mother/daughter memories I have are not ones I wish to recreate with them. When they are older, maybe I will make a tradition, something we can go do together that is special to this day, but it feels a bit wrong to plan an execute my own celebration.
My children know every day that I love them and that I want them to grow into the best versions of themselves that they can be. They are unaware of the sacrifices I've made, the endless hours of researching and worrying about my choices for them, the really big ones that could impact their lives later. Will postponing a surgery now cause him bigger problems later? Will allowing them to homeschool and move at their desired pace leave them suffering later?
I can't wrap my mind around the idea of someone having children they didn't want simply because they were told they should, a fact an aunt shared with me as an adult but I had known since I was a child. The fact that we were unwanted was felt in everything, every time we were an inconvenience, every time we didn't perform perfectly and on cue.
I knew from very young that Mother's Day wasn't the type of holiday meant for our family. Sure, we made the crafts at church and at school, but when you're that kid when got that mother, you knew never to get your hopes up that your small tokens of admiration would be well received.
When April First rolls around every year, people share reminders about not being hurtful to others who my be suffering, but no one seems to consider that Mother's Day chould cause just as much pain.
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