Motherf**kin' Mother's Day
Since the day that mom died, my anxiety and depression seem to heighten significantly around the holidays. December is just ruthless and cruel – leaving us to suffer through her birthday (her favorite of all holidays) and Christmas without her smile and spirit and the magic that she brought to our family and everyone around her.
But Mother's Day? It's the fucking worst. This dread – the kind that seeps into your heart and consumes your mind and haunts your memories always starts in early April and seems to last forever. Store displays and Google ads and emails start taking over your life – signaling the impending arrival of one of THE worst days in a motherless child's year.
$15 OFF - May is all about Mom!
Mom called. She said she wanted this!
Find ways to celebrate mom that last a lifetime!
Mom deserves more than just flowers this year.
Mother's Day Gift Guide
Oh, and my personal favorite this year:
10 perfect gift ideas for the mom we all have!
Except… I don't have a mom. I mean, I will always have a mom. But I don't have a mom here – to spoil or shower in flowers and perfect gifts that will last a lifetime. My lifetime with her was cruelly cut short, and it appears that the rest of the world doesn't give a damn.
Everywhere I turn, there's someone or something there to remind me that the person I love so much, the person who gave me life and taught me how to pray and cook and to never leave home without a lip gloss and a tin of Altoids is just…gone.
If any of you out there reading this work for a retail company, or any company for that matter, that promotes holidays (especially ones like Mother's Day and Father's Day), I have a million-dollar idea for you... create an "unsubscribe from the heart-wrenchingly painful, I don't have a mom, endless feed of ads and content reminding me of that brutal fact" option for those who are sick and fucking tired of seeing it. #pleaseandthanks
Last year I was so terrified of the thought of Mother's Day that when the day came, I was just numb to it. It was the first real holiday I had to suffer through without her, and it was just a few short months after she died. I tried my best to prepare for it – to brace myself for the awfulness that day would bring. But when it finally arrived, it just felt like another sad, momless day. I think I mentally blocked it out because I honestly couldn't tell you what I did, or ate, or if I cried. It's like the day has been erased from my memory.
But this year…it feels so much harder.
I have officially made it through my first full year of holidays without her, so I kind of already know what to expect. I don't have to anticipate what the pain will feel like, because I already know - it will feel like I'm being crushed under a wave. Like being slammed into the ocean floor, struggling to find which way is up while all the while fighting like hell to find the ability to just… breathe.
Flipping through the book that has become my "bible”** of sorts this last week, I found myself reading and rereading this same paragraph over and over and over again:
"And I was mad at people simply because they had moms. Oh, how I hated them for it. I was too scared and mortified to tell anyone, so when friends asked how I was doing, I nodded and gave them my rehearsed "some days are harder than others, but I'm ok" answer."
Nothing can change the fact that my mom is dead and that this holiday really, really sucks. But just because I hate it, that doesn't mean I'm not happy for the other amazing moms that I have in my life; my awesome godmother, my sweet aunts, all the dog moms and cat moms and stepmoms. My boyfriends mom, my friends mom’s who were like second moms, and all the strong, beautiful, amazing besties and forever friends in my life who have become moms. Who have become owie-fixers and life-givers to all these tiny, too smart for their own good, adorable little humans who call me auntie mags or “cheesehead” and give me sticky kisses and small human hugs when I see them. I don't want to not celebrate these moms because you know what - they are amazing… I just don't want to be flooded with reminders that I don't have one either.
This weekend is going to be painful. But, truth is, every single day that I wake up and remember that she isn't here is painful. So, instead of showering mom with all the gifts and love she so deserves, I'll try instead to celebrate the person she was and the person she molded and formed me into. The one that sneezes too loud, cares too deeply, cries too easily, and hopes like hell that wherever she is - that she is proud of me.
**The Dead Mom’s Club