Mother's Day

I saw a funny card in the split second that Michael allowed me to peruse the Mother's Day card aisle yesterday. It was a scene with masses of people at the beach and asked, "Can you spot the mother in this picture?" I'm looking for anything that might stick out as mother-ish, but since there wasn't anything obvious, and Michael was already tired of me looking at this ONE card, I turned quickly to get the punchline. "There's NO mother in this picture because, dummy, mother is still at the van, loading up lawnchairs, towels, picnic coolers, sand toys, bug spray...blah blah blah, and might never make it down to the beach." Oh how painfully appropriate! I laughed out loud amongst all the other really quiet, super serious card browsers, then took my two year old shopping date to another hemisphere of Walmart.

Mother's Day isn't always celebratory. I am sad for a friend who spent her first mother's day without her mother who recently passed away. I am sad for my former student's mother who had to spend her first mother's day without that child. I am sad for another former student who again visits her mother in the cemetery for Mother's Day.
I painfully remember a time when Mother's Day was nothing but a cruel tease for myself. I know there must be so many people out there who hurt on Mother's Day. There were so many days that wanted my own child to hold. I counted myself as a mother, but had nothing to show for it--and didn't really know if I would EVER have anything to show for it.

I am so fortunate. I can look back on those days and smile a half-relieving smile and a half-grieving smile. I still think about how the others would have turned out, but now I can hug my children (when they're not squirming away), get them snacks, bathe them, read to them, smell them, clean up their messes, tuck them into bed, console them, giggle with them, sing to them, guide them, and just watch them. Look and see what they've already become. It's the best thing in the world.