I’ve been thinking about Mother’s Day for the past week, or, more specifically, the blog posts about hating it.
I don’t understand. Seriously, of all the Hallmark Holidays to hate, why would you hate Mother’s Day?
“… Mother’s Day celebrates a huge lie about the value of women: that mothers are superior beings, that they have done more with their lives and chosen a more difficult path.”
You seem to be missing the point.
“I hate the way the holiday makes all non-mothers, and the daughters of dead mothers, and the mothers of dead or severely damaged children, feel the deepest kind of grief and failure.”
Did you know that Anna Jarvis, the founder of Mother’s Day had no children? That her own mother had passed away? She loved her mother, respected and admired her. She wanted to honor her. It struck her as a good idea for everyone to take a day and just honor the woman who gave them life.
How dare she.
I am not insensitive to the pain of women. I should be hugely pregnant right now, my due date only a few days away. But, I’m not. Last Saturday night, after The Commander had gone to bed, I sat up late into the night crying.
Sunday morning, as I sat in my cozy chair, rehydrating, and reflecting on motherhood, I found my eyes once again tearing up. This time, they were tears of gratitude. I thought about all of the mothers that have touched my life in different ways. In my heart, as I listed and honored each of them.
And it made me feel profoundly happy, and deeply loved.
My Momma: There is SO much that I have to thank you for, but at the top of my list, is showing me what unconditional love really is, by holding onto me, no matter how hard I foolishly pushed you away. And when this prodigal daughter returned to you, you didn’t hesitate to welcome me back with open arms.
Also, because of you, every time I travel, someone asks me if my bags are full of rocks, and they usually are. I love you. I honor you.
Momma P: You raised the man who I am delighted, and privileged to be married to. You have inspired, encouraged, and taught me in all of my housewifely and crafty endeavors. I love you. I honor you.
The “P” Sisters, my aunties: What can say? You are a wonderful, beautiful, and crazy bunch of ladies, the proverbial village that raised me; and a helluva village it was. Is. Your doors and arms have always been open to me. Your children are still my best friends. I love you ladies. I honor you.
My sisters and cousins, both biological and bonus: It has been an absolute joy watching you blossom into motherhood. I get weepy sometimes, seeing the next generation growing up, knowing the word ‘cousin’ to be synonymous with ‘friend’. Seriously, our village is awesome. I love you. I honor you.
There are so many more…
We all have choices in life. You can choose to celebrate whichever holidays you want to, or not at all. You can choose to focus on life’s disappointments, or you can choose to take the day for what it is, and choose to put the focus on someone other than yourself. You can choose to look around a room and just love on other ladies, because seriously, why the hell not?
You have choices. Why not choose to love? It feels good.
And love is the point.