It sure would be nice if I could skip over tomorrow, just the way one might easily tear two pages from the 365-day calendar sitting on their desk. Mother's Day without a mother is like Valentine's Day without a lover. Everyone around the country rushes to the neighborhood strip mall to pick up last-minute cards, balloons, chocolates, and groceries in preparation for a Sunday filled with hugs and family activities. Meanwhile, I'll stay home and maybe eat some Doritos.
Mother's Day is very, very hard for me. I've grown to despise the holiday, actually. It's more like an annual reminder of how lonely it constantly is without Mom around anymore. There's no sense sugarcoating this. I'd prefer to just sleep right through until Monday, and perhaps I'll do just that.
For about 99% of the other days in a year, Mom's absence is slightly more bearable. Everyone else goes about their regular business and the holes in my own life seem more patched up by the idle activities that fill the day. But, yes... every year, May rolls along and the retail stores and highway billboards and radio spots all proclaim equally deafening reminders:
Treat your mother this upcoming Mother's Day!
Mother's Day: Cards, Gifts, Crafts, Brunch!
Show your mother how much you love her!
I feel like a giant global party is in the works to celebrate motherhood, and I'm the only Scrooge in town. "I shouldn't be thinking this; I'm better than this," I say to myself. But no self pep talks can paint over the built-up pain, the frustration, the loneliness, the "why me's?", the broken heart, and the childish thoughts that fill my mind. When there are cracks in the foundation, it's only time until the touch-ups are overwhelmed by the natural elements.
"Why did Mom have to die at such a young age?" I ask, again and again and again. "Why did I lose Mom at such a young age? Will I really see her in heaven one day? Why can't I just spend one more day together with her, or even just one more moment with her? How will I handle her absence during life's big milestones, holidays, and celebrations? Why do people around me often seem to not appreciate their own mothers? Where do they find the audacity (or obliviousness) to often complain about their own mothers to me? And what keeps me from knocking these people out?"
I probably don't make Mom proud by writing posts like this, but she'll have to forgive me and hopefully elevate 'honesty' as a more redeeming quality. I just miss her so much. Passing time (5+ years) and new life events since her death only ease the pain so much. A big, gaping void remains. Not many people my age can begin to relate. The compass is still out of whack. The loneliness lingers. The memories grow slightly thinner. Her friends are long gone. And while it's all history, it's all very much the foundation for the present and future.
What can I really do but pray to God for more opportunities to love others? God won't zap me with warm and fuzzy feelings, but hopefully He will at least give me some chances to cultivate them.
