Mother’s Day

This is my first Mother’s day without my mother.

Here’s the thing; Mother’s day has never been a very big deal in my world. No one of us really goes in for what Mr. Chili calls “Hallmark Holidays,” anyway, so the first Sunday in May has always been acknowledged, certainly, but never really “celebrated.” I’ve known families who buy mothers and grandmothers corsages and take them out to dinners for which they needed to make reservations months in advance, or who gather entire families together from all their respective, far-flung homes for a day that I would imagine feels much like Thanksgiving.

We never did that. For us, a really involved Mother’s day meant a bunch of flowers (sometimes from the grocery store) and a visit. Most of the time, it meant a phone call.

Here’s the thing, though; I have never felt like I needed a holiday to remind me to celebrate the people I love. Sure, I’d call my mother on Mother’s day, but I’d probably already talked to her on the phone on Friday. I might come to visit her on Sunday, but I’d just as likely have been there on Wednesday. What I’m saying is that I never needed a special occasion to spend time or talk to my mother; Mother’s day was nice, but it wasn’t a big deal.

I think that’s why I don’t feel weird today. I’m finding that my missing my mother has changed a lot in the time she’s been gone, and while I wouldn’t say that her being gone has gotten easier, really, it is different. I still go through cycles where I’ll miss her terribly (or where I’ll resent the hell out of her for leaving me with a teenage girl), and I think of her literally every day, but there’s less of a sting, I think. I don’t know; it’s hard to put into words.

I won’t visit Mom’s grave today; I know she’s not there. Instead, I will love my children and honor Mimi, who’s wrapped her substantial, fierce love around me so that I don’t feel like a motherless child, and I don’t feel adrift without a model as I mother my own children.

I am blessed.

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