Mother’s Day is known as Mothering Sunday in England. This slight shift on the holiday title, shared with me by late-former husband, always delighted me. This is my first Mother’s Day sans my mama. And the anniversary, holiday wise, that I last spoke with her. It was a sweet conversation. I’d sent a Mama’s Day video for her to the community staff. Staff told me she loved it and was identifying all the plants in the virtual garden tour I sent.
I am possibly more practical than my mom was. And with far less childhood familial baggage that she carried. While I hear my mom encouraging me Not to let Mother’s Day get me down, I’m surprised that it is… We never made a huge thing over it… a phone call where I told her I loved and appreciated her, and then she told me how proud she was of me. Of what a good mama I was. She told me this a lot over the years. Wrote it too. While I think my parenting is upper quartile (even if my kiddos disagree in moments 😜), there’s no one left with moral authority to tell me so. And that leaves me feeling hollow. My mom was truly my biggest cheerleader in the parenting department. I think she was watching the arch from her grandparents to her grandchildren. She consciously worked on breaking bad parenting habits she experienced as a child when she had me. She told me this when I was 8.
That we weren’t able to be together for Mom’s Day last year, has been a bit of a shield for this being my first Mother’s Day without her. It was not lost on me that this could have been the outcome.
I’m meeting with my two local kiddos and their families tomorrow at one of our large regional nurseries for Mother’s Day. We’re gonna stroll. I’ll be looking for that River Birch for the Island…