Sure, I knew that Mother’s Day was right around the corner. I mean, I’m a mom. Of course I knew. Motherhood is one of my greatest joys, and I think it’s really swell to have a day just about me. But the thing is, it’s not. It’s not just about me.
So when I started seeing the barrage of photos come across my Facebook newsfeed the heavy weight of Mother’s Day hit me. Like a lead weight it pulled at me, dragging me down to places I typically try to forget about.
Photo after photo of beautiful mothers being celebrated showed up on my social media, and I honestly loved seeing them. But honestly, I also didn’t.
When I saw the picture of you and your mom, and your child too, I almost lost it. That’s the thing about grief. It’s a tricky animal. You can be chugging along doing just fine and dandy when all of the sudden you are struck by sadness, and it comes up so stealthly unaware that it forces the emotion right out of you like an erupting volcano. Tears start pouring down your face, and you whisper to the non-responding sky above, “I miss you, Momma.”
I don’t want you to feel guilty for my grief. Not at all. My melancholy sadness it what it is, and it’s also accompanied by the peace of the hereafter, so most days I’m okay. I pitter-pat through an abundantly blessed life, and when I think of my mom who is gone, I smile at the memories that stir inside my heart. So don’t feel sorry for me, the motherless woman. I am simply a girl who was loved by an amazing momma; she just had to leave for Heaven a little earlier than we all bargained for.
But there is one thing I would want to impart to you. As a woman who has lost her mother without getting to say goodbye, and as a mom whose own children never met their wonderful grandmother, I would say this. Make the most of this Mother’s Day.
Don’t just grab a last minute card that looks okay. Find the perfect one that spells out how special she is. And if it doesn’t say it enough, then add your own sentiment.
Take the time. Time is a thing we are always lacking in this hurried life, but I can tell you this. When she’s gone, she’s gone, and you’ll never get that time back. So make the most of it. Find the time to spend with your mom. One day time with her will only exist in the memories of your heart.
Cherish her as your friend. Recognize the help she provides. See the amazing role model she is to your children. Even if she doesn’t do things like you do, realize that she’s present. She’s present and making an impact on your life and that of your children. I only wish my mom had met my daughters.
When you hug your mom goodbye after church, or at the end of your Mother’s Day festivities, I want you to linger. Stay a while in her arms. Smell her perfume, soak up her laughter, and hold her tight. You just never know when that last hug will be. I still remember mine, and I beat myself up a bit for making it so perfunctory and lack luster. Hindsight.
Hindsight is 20/20, but don’t let it be the only way you see your mom clearly. See her now. Whatever her quirks, whatever your differences, it matters not. See past that into her heart for you, straight through to her sacrifices, kindness, and undying love. See it now while you can still say thank you in person, rather than whispering it later in blurry-eyed, tearful prayers.
When I see the pictures of you with your mom, the one who’s still here on this earth with you, I’m happy. I’m happy for you when I see how blessed you are to have her presence in your life, and my prayer for you this Mother’s Day would be that you see it also.
Balling…..and taking my mom to Green Market and lunch tomorrow. I was just thinking of all my friends who no longer have their Mom around and then you posted this. I read it AFTER I called mine, but thank you for reminding us how important our time with Mom is. I wish your kids could have met your Mom too. Happy Mother’s Day Brie! Blessings to you
Thank you! And to you.
After my mom died, I dreaded the first Mother’s Day. I had gotten thru a horrid Thanksgiving only a week after her death, and I had tried hard to be prepared for Christmas and Easter. But as Mother’s Day approached and my husband asked what I wanted to do that day, all I could think of was visiting Mom’s grave and putting some of her favorite spring flowers there. So, after church we started a tradition: brunch wherever I chose to go (no whining from the boys) and then to the cemetery. As the years passed, my three sons actually said they liked doing it. Grandpa had died the next year and it made for an even more special time to remember them both. Over the years we’ve shared the experience and told the memories to the daughters-in-law and grandchildren added into our family. It will be 20 years next year and we haven’t always been able to make it happen. But we have stories to tell: like the time there was a horrible storm and we came home to find a large tree branch had gone right through the kitchen window and landed in the babies high chair (Praise the Lord we were not home having lunch!); or the sudden drop in temperature that made us stop on the way to buy new shoes and jackets for the little granddaughters; or the time we first added flowers for my brother’s grave that was now next to them. Sorry for the long comment–your blog triggered me to reflect on how it has been for me to process the loss of my own “amazing momma.”
Thank you so much for commenting and sharing about your own mom!
I am also without my Mother so reading this hit home. My daughter Jenny is happy to have a Mom to celebrate still. Just know that Marty is always with you and watches over you and your family. Happy Mothers day to you.?
Thank you!