So, I’ve been thinking, and I’ve come to the conclusion that Mother’s Day has to be one of the top two* worst holidays known to man for two groups of people.
One group being Those Who Have Lost A Child
and the second being
Those Children Who Have Lost Their Mother.
I mean, I get that it is a holiday meant to celebrate our mothers, which is wonderful and needed, but at the same time…
could we have possibly created a day that more rubs being childless or motherless in the faces of those who have loved and lost?
What about the childless? What about the lady who stood in front of the church this morning with the other mothers when they were being recognized? You could actually see it- there was an undeniable pain, the kind that you feel deep down in your middle, the kind of pain that stems from the inside out to the tears streaming down her face. A grief that demands to be felt.
Or what about Anthea, who woke up this morning having to face Mother’s Day for the first time without her mother, without her best friend? Or my dad who just lost his mom, and in losing her, lost his last remaining parent?
Or what about me, and the rest of the motherless, who are forgotten as people ignorantly and, albeit unintentionally, insensitively talk on and on about their mothers and did you wish your mom a happy mother’s day? without giving a single thought that perhaps this might not be a perfectly charming holiday for some people. That today could be anything other than happy for people like us.
How could it be happy?
(*And in case you were wondering about the other of the top two worst holidays? That would be Every Other Significant Day in Their Life that, because of death’s inconvenienty, _________ Will Not Be There.)
On that note, here’s a letter I’ve written for my mother.
//
Dear Mom,
I wish
you
were
h e r e
with me.
I wish you were here so I could sit with you at the table with a cup of hot tea and catch up about our lives.
I wish that you were here so we could fight even.
Except I do not know that we would fight, because I would know what a Big Deal it is to even have a mom to fight with. What it means to actually have a mom.
I remember growing up, and seeing some of my friends fight with their moms or talk badly about them.
And I remember all I could think was (I didn’t actually say any of this, I only thought it), “Don’t you get it?! Why would you ever fight with her? Why would you ever talk badly about her? Don’t you understand what a precious thing it is to actually HAVE A MOM? I would give anything to have mine. Don’t waste this gift you have on saying words that will only bring hurt and pain to each other.”
But they didn’t understand. They didn’t know.
Because it is true,
that old saying that goes
You don’t know what you have til it’s gone.
But you see, I did know. Maybe I was nine, but I did know.
And fourteen years later, I know even more now.
You see, I know because
You weren’t there on my first day of “real” school.
You weren’t there when I had my first real crush.
You weren’t there when Dad gave me that awfully short haircut and I swore I’d never cut my hair short again.
You weren’t there to help me look over my homework or to make me cupcakes to bring to school for my birthday.
You weren’t there to pack my lunch or to leave little notes for me to find.
You weren’t there when I got my first real job or to give me advice before my first interview.
You weren’t there to help me pick out my dress for Junior Senior.
You weren’t there smiling proudly next to me in our family photos at my graduation.
You weren’t there to cry with me when my heart was broken.
You weren’t there in those times when I felt so alone.
You weren’t there to help me pick out decorations for my dorm room or to cry with Dad as you both dropped me off at college for freshman orientation.
You weren’t there to answer my questions.
You weren’t there as I figured out what it meant to become…well, me.
You weren’t there to listen as I figured out my passions and discovered what God had made me to do.
You weren’t there to become my best friend, and to respect me as an equal as I grew up into a young woman.
You weren’t there to meet my favorite professors and to cheer me on as I walked across the stage to receive my degree.
You weren’t there to see me off at the airport as I left on The Race.
You weren’t there for me to Skype to tell you about my adventures or to wish you a happy birthday or to wish you a happy mother’s day like my teammates.
You won’t be there to greet me with a “welcome home” sign and a huge hug and a whispered “I’ve missed you” at the airport.
You won’t be there to listen as I recount all of the crazy things I saw God do, and to hear the stories and to fall in love with the people I fell in love with on the race.
You won’t be there to help me get ready on my wedding day, or to cry with me as you help me put on my dress, and you won’t be there to pray a blessing over me in the dressing room in the moments before I walk down the aisle.
You won’t be there to give me a huge, tearful hug right before my husband and I leave the reception for our honeymoon, and to begin the rest of our life together.
You won’t be there when I find out that I’m expecting, or to tell me that it’s okay I’m freaking out, and that everything will be alright and that I will be a great mother.
You won’t be there to meet and babysit and spoil all of your beautiful grandchildren, adopted and biological. They won’t get to meet you and love you or experience your love as I have. You won’t get to meet little June, who will be named after you.
You won’t be there.
But the thing is that I know you would have been.
If you could have.
If you had had a choice.
But you didn’t, you didn’t have a choice.
Or you would have been there.
So to all of those with a choice- choose to be there.
Choose to really BE there.
Don’t miss a moment of your child’s precious and marvelous and wonderfully beautiful life…for anything. Nothing matters more.
Choose to be there for the good moments and the bad moments, the beautiful ones and the ugly ones. The huge celebrations and the small ones. Be there. It doesn’t matter if you know what to do or if you don’t know what the heck you’re doing- it doesn’t matter. Simply be there. Here’s a secret, you being there- that’s all that will matter to your kids. That’s all we really want.
Even if you don’t have kids, choose to be there for someone. Everyone needs to have someone there for them. So choose to be that someone for them.
You see, if you can make a difference for someone, even just one person, it will have all been worth it.
My mom made all the difference to me and my brothers and sister in the short time she had with us. As can you. All it takes is to just to choose to be there for someone else.
-from a kid whose mom couldn’t
