As an adult, Mother’s Day has always been a difficult day for me personally. Growing up- it was a chance for my brothers to show off their rhyming skills with some Mother’s Day poetry (Hallmark had nothing on us!) and our gardening skills by picking out the best potted plant we could find to show our mom how much we loved her. I was home this past weekend and had the chance to spend some time in the home I grew up in. It was interesting to look around at some of the things that just haven’t changed in 46 years. So many memories of love shared.
I saw a bottle of Avon bubble bath and it brought back memories of “The Avon Lady” that used to knock on our door once a month to bring the latest catalog of Avon makeup, perfume, and jewelry. It was kind of our little ritual mom and I would share. I’d get to look in the magazine for the latest little girl makeup or trinket of jewelry. My all time favorite was the pink and orange lip gloss that game in the plastic shaped hamburger! I loved doing that with my mom. Mom used that time as a way of teaching me how to grow into a woman.
My mom and dad in the early 70’s. Mom holding me. Yes, my room was originally the Raggedy Ann and Andy theme. My bedroom almost 20 years after leaving home!
While I can spend the day giving thanks for all of the ways that my mom nurtured and raised me, I also always feel like I’m missing something. As an adult woman who has been unable to become pregnant, I find myself in one of those categories of awkwardness on days like today. I’m ok with it now. Truly. It has been enough years to lose the sensitivity around it for me. But I am acutely aware that not everyone feels like I do and it’s a day of loneliness or feeling inadequate for some.
I appreciated an article that went around Facebook this week that empathized with all the women who lost their mothers prematurely in life. It invited us to give an extra long hug to our moms and not take for granted celebrating this day with them in person while acknowledging that for some, the loss of their mother was still very tender.
Of course there are those whose biological mother just wasn’t able to be the kind of mother that cared for their children in all of the emotional and physical ways that we assume mother’s will provide. And there are those who have never known their mother.
But there are also those women in our lives who have been surrogate mothers with seemingly never-ending love to share with everyone. There are those women who have mentored or encouraged, stepped in when we needed them most impacting our lives like a mother. Thank you, women of significance.
My best word on this day is we celebrate and give thanks for the mother’s of the world. It is important work that women do. It’s not the only work women do and not all women choose or get the opportunity to be mothers and that is ok, too. And in all the ways that we think of mothers at their very best- I also give thanks to God because God models those very same motherly characteristics in the ways God loves and nurtures us, God’s children. So moms, I hope the works of art that your children have given you and the clumsily written poems or specially cooked meal or flower arrangement has brought joy to your heart. Because momma-like love is some of the best in the world.
Grace and Peace,