Happy Mothers Day!

Now that the simple is over, I wanted to take a moment to reflect on the complexities of Mothers Day for so many of us, including me. I know others have done this, probably more eloquently than I have, but hey, it’s ostensibly my day, and my husband has taken our children for a bit, so here I am, writing, one of my favorite things, on Mothers Day, a really weird day for me.

Usually, on Mothers Day, particularly since moving back to Southern California, I go, during the day to visit my mother. That is to say, that I visit my mother’s gravesite, where she is buried alongside my grandmother (who helped my mother raise me until she passed when I was 7) and now, my aunt. My aunt, in her last days, last Fall, brought me so much closer to my mom through sharing memories with me that were dear to her, and these three women were powerful influences on who I am today.  Today, I won’t go because my uncle will go instead, which is bittersweet. Even though I’m not there physically, I’m there in my heart, as I know my brother and cousin are.

For mothers who have lost mothers, Mothers Day is a real mixed bag.

It’s been 23 years that Mothers Day has been extremely complicated for me without a mom. This year, several people close to me will be going through their first Mothers Day as mothers without their mothers.  Please know that I see you. I know it can be conflicting (if not today, then at some point probably soon).  And, however you are today, it’s fine.  I’ve spent the last 14 years (as a fost-adopt mom first then a biological mom) trying to figure out if I should just try to be happy for my kids or acknowledge my humanity and my longing to celebrate with my own mommy.  It’s not either/or.  I’m a human being.  It’s both/and.  And, that’s okay.

But this isn’t the only complexity of Mothers Day.

As I’ve written about before, mothering is complex every day.  While my biological children are thriving, my adopted children are struggling.  It’s hard to celebrate Mothers Day when you have a child (of any age) that doesn’t acknowledge/accept/ or want your mothering or when they are struggling and you just can’t help.  I mean, I’ve come to accept my life for how it is, and my relationship with each of my children for how it is, and to always respect their choices to have me in their lives or not (well, at least with the adult children.  The under 18 crew is stuck with me for now) and how close they choose to be with me.  But, it doesn’t actually make this day any less painful. Part of me wants a perfect ending to the mothering story. Don’t we all?  But, life isn’t perfect, and my children are wonderful, but they are not perfect either, and my mothering is far from perfect, and our family situation is tough.  It’s complex.  A greeting card, bunch of flowers or even a phone call wouldn’t make it less complex, but I guess it might make me forget for a moment.

But it’s not just complex for me.

Through all my own struggles with this day, I am aware, and see my friends with other struggles on this day. Some similar to mine, and others different. In addition to my forms of struggle, I know friends are struggling with having lost children to miscarriage, still birth, premature death, illness, and violence.  I know there are some that desperately want to be mothers, but have struggled to have children or legally foster/ adopt children.  There are also people who don’t want children and deal with the constant questions about when they might have children or why they don’t want children.  There are people who are mothers every day to countless students, other family members, youth in their places of worship or communities, but who don’t get recognized as official “mothers.” There are single moms or moms in difficult relationships who don’t get the luxury I get to have a “day off.” I’m sure I’m forgetting folks, but I want you to know, I see you, wherever you are.

And I am so grateful for you and your lives.  You matter to me, however this day is for you.  I love you and hope you are having a Happy Mothers Day.