Everyday is Mother’s Day. Words from my mother. Mother’s Day 2019. I battled the days leading to Mother’s Day. I’d purchased my mom’s mother day card and gift months in advance. When the time came to mail the items, I found myself stalling. The gift didn’t carry the weight that previous gifts carried. Days continued to pass and the items remained on the dresser.
I never sent the gifts.
We’d talked all week about her plans for the upcoming holiday. In my opinion she was “traditionally” having her “annual” Mother’s day dinner. My sister and niece would come over and of course my dad would be present. Additionally, this year she invited her older sister to join the family. Somewhere between Saturday night and Sunday morning sadness overwhelmed.
In spite of having to work Mother’s Day weekend, Saturday afternoon I’d considered making the 2.5 hour drive home on Mother’s Day; so much, that I’d gotten an oil change and purchased a dozen of bundtinis (cupcakes) from a local bakery. The fact remained that I was tired from working a nine-hour shift, that I had to work the following day and didn’t have a scheduled day off until May 23, 2019. Yet, I set my alarm for 5:00 am with every intention to go to work by 6:00 am and be to Jacksonville by 11:00 am.
However, when the alarm sounded off I wrestled with the idea of driving, the thought it was supposed to storm heavily and the fact that I hate driving in the rain, and that I was 31 years old and had yet to bear children. This was the first time being childless crept in and shook hands with my emotions. I didn’t understand where the feeling arose from or why I was so disturbed. In fact on previous Mother’s Days I’d found myself blissful and joyful; anticipating honoring my mom. As well as, grateful for the many messages and calls that came from previous kids I’d interacted with expressing their heartfelt feelings regarding me making them feel loved.
As I laid there and the hours passed I remained conflicted. I weighed the pros and cons. I texted my mom to see if she was up but she wasn’t up. I decided to called a dear friend to talk it out. I wasn’t looking for advice just someone to talk it out with at 7:30 am in the morning. LOL! She responded to the text advising to give her a ring.
Me: Hey sis. Are you up?
Her: Yes. What’s up?
Me: Trying to make what feels like a big decision. It’s really not though. Wondered if you had a few minutes to process it with me.
Her: Sure. I have a few. Your timing is impeccable.
I called and she cheerfully answered, Hey Bud! What’s Up? Then I shared with her the aforementioned. As we talked I still felt crappy and eventually told her so and thanked her for her time. She advised she would be traveling back home from visiting with her family and to keep her posted on my decision.
Thereafter, my mom texted stating she was up. As soon as she answered my throat tighten and I struggled to even say Happy Mother’s Day.
Her: What’s wrong, Kotrish?
Y’all I wailed like a baby!
And when I was done . . .
She calmly and lovingly stated, “Kotrish, Mother’s Day is everyday. Everyday that I get to be your mother is Mother’s Day for me. You know material things do not matter to me. You bless me all the time with gifts not just physical gifts but spiritual gifts too. Those gifts are the greatest gifts of all. She also mentioned that I drove enough for work and that I should spend the day resting and shouldn’t feel bad. Look at your schedule and let me know what day we can drive up even if just for a hour to pick up the gifts, talk a little and maybe play a game or two.” In the midst of me hyperventilating, I managed to say, “okay, I can let you know by tomorrow.”
In other news, we disagreed on the traditional dinner she said it’s not a tradition. I retorted, perhaps, not one that’s established but it happens every year. LOL! Maybe she’s right it’s not a tradition, it’s a routine that appears to the outsider looking in as a tradition. Either way, I realized I was battling with the reality of more family photos would be taken that did not include me and within hours my phone would be flooded with those photos.
In the end, I selfishly needed my mommy on Mother’s Day to tell me it was all okay. I must say I am thankful and blessed to have such a wonderful mom. I hope that I am just as wonderful in my own way to my kids.
Most importantly, I needed to give myself permission to feel the emotions I felt and face my vulnerability.