Mother's Day 2015
Another Mother's Day has come and gone. And for many it is a wonderful day filled with flowers, hand made cards, fabulous gifts, and countless breakfast in bed moments. Facebook is filled with all the bragging rights between mothers and their children and everyone goes through the motion to honor a great woman in their lives and everything goes back to normal tomorrow. Moms will get back to grocery shopping, meal planning, lunch making, house cleaning, and for some going back to work in the am. And we children will go on needing them in every possible way. But for some it is a sad day, whether dealing with the physical loss of their mom or not being a mom for different reasons life sends our way. I am mixed on this very day. I have my four beautiful (I am a little bias, as every mom is) monsters-I mean children who I adore on most days. Their sweet innocent cards and drawings of me in square outfits and sometimes with no hair makes me feel like a million bucks. And then there is the side of me where I see all the pictures posted of daughters and mothers on social media and the celebration of them in their married lives-and I am saddened, even a little jealous. Why do they get their moms still? Why are their moms so healthy, alive, and a part of their own children's lives? I get angry as I go sit with my mom, beside her in her wheelchair. Holding her tight-hoping for one little glimpse in her eyes that she knows it me. Talking to her and telling her all about my days, frustrations, and what would she recommend I do. Nothing. Nothing is there today, my mom is not there. I hold on to her physical body and am comforted simply by hearing her heart beat. Completely disheartened by her lack of knowing who I am. We bring the flowers, we share the memories, we hold the hands, but in reality I am empty inside, wanting my mom, needing her in my life. Mother, Mom, Mama, Moom (Niko's new word for me this month), whatever you may refer to yours as, whatever they may or may not be to you, they are there. Everyone has one, good or bad. But I, I have one who is physically here, but I cannot laugh with her, I cannot call her up and ask her to help me, I cannot cry in her embrace, I cannot feel her hand in mine. I realize that today in the midst of my kids celebration of me, I cry. No one can replace her, no one can be her in my life. I cry for what I had, what I need to have, and what I want to have, I cry. So today, continue to be that mom...that mom you had, that mom you want to be, that mom that you are. Mother's Day. 2015.
Comments
Thank you for sharing your honest feelings in handling with your mother's illness! I am truly sorry about her health, especially since I have known her since I was a child. Is there something I can do to send to cheer her up? I know she may not be aware, but I would like to do something to let her know that she is still thought of from a distance. I will check back this post for your response. Thanks!
Out of curiosity and if you don't mind me asking, what triggered her illness? Was there a shocking event that triggered the change? A big family event? A tragedy? A loss (or relocation) of someone special, such as a child or spouse or other family members?
I have done some studies on the disease and there is a possibility that such events triggered memory blockage. I believe the last time I saw her was when she was healthy, so it saddens me to see this. I hope you, your sister, and brother are able to keep her spirits up as best possible and I am sending her my best from a distance!