On Mother's Day

I've wanted to write about Mother's Day all week, but I have simply been too crazy-busy swamped (that's correct in Southern-ese, if not in the rest of the country ) until now.

Mother's Day: a day for celebration, for remembering one of life's most precious persons.

Mother's Day: the one day of the year Mom can be assured of getting a flower (in church, at least), even if it is only a carnation, and a phone call, if she has adult children! :-)

Mother's Day: an opportunity for some, like this first-born, to call their mothers and offer them a sincere, "You're welcome," (for of course it is her first-born that makes her a mother.)

Mother's Day: when exhausted, harried mothers get to remember that motherhood is actually a good thing. I have one friend who has wanted a child for so long, and she received one through adoption a couple of months ago. Mother's Day was an especially special day for her.

Mother's Day: a hard day, for some. Three of my good friends have lost their mothers recently, and this weekend was especially hard as they grieved in a new way the passing of these special women. I have one friend who lost her first-born in utero a couple of months ago, and Mother's Day was a difficult one for her also. I have married friends who have tried for years to become pregnant or to carry to term, and Mother's Day can seem a mockery of their pain.

Mother's Day: a day for irony. I can't tell you how many times this past weekend I was wished a happy Mother's Day. If you don't know me, perhaps you won't know that I am single, never married, no children. However, I am in my mid-thirties (I hate typing that-lol!), and virtually all of my friends are married and do have children. That is a wonderful thing, and it allows me to live a bit vicariously without having to wake up every two to four hours for months on end. I like that very much!

Mother's Day: to the woman who wants children but has no prospect of having any, a painful period. And this year, for me, it seemed more so than most years. Don't misunderstand. I'm not pining away; really, really, truly, I am not. I think my friends and family would testify to this. I really do love the life God has provided me, and I am keenly aware of the benefits of singleness and of this season in my life. I would NEVER wish for me what God has not provided. I would not want a husband/children/a picket fence/two dogs/a cat/and a goldfish if that wasn't God's calling on my life. (Okay, I wouldn't want some of those anyway! I've already killed enough goldfish for a lifetime!)

Mother's Day: a day to grieve the passing of time. I don't begrudge time traveling on. I just miss the things that will never be because it has moved along. For example, I will never, no matter what happens from this moment on, be a young mother, a young parent. Unless I have better genes than I am pretty sure I have, even if I was married tomorrow and pregnant the next day, I wouldn't have nearly the time with my grandchildren that my grandparents have had with me. In fact, the more time passes, the chances of me ever being a mother grow slimmer and slimmer.

Mother's Day: a day to feel old. I'm not old, but I'm not young either, and on most days, I kinda like that. I have the benefits of some experience without the aches that prove my history. :-) The lines have started, but not really settled in for the duration. :-) But on Mother's Day, well on Mother's Day, I feel old. I feel bypassed. And I feel very, very alone. For while many people go through this, maybe even some of my readers, I went through this alone. I didn't feel free to share this out loud with anyone. I didn't tell anyone that I cried on Mother's Day, and I've cried every time I've thought about writing this blog. In fact, I'm crying right now.

I would never want what God didn't plan and provide for me. But on Mother's Day, I miss the possibilities that youth offered. I know now that no one's life turns out the way they plan it; this knowledge is one of the benefits of age. But it doesn't stop you from planning it when you are young, and the releasing of that plan is what hurts the most, sometimes even on Mother's Day.
-J

P.S. Don't forget this blog is where I process what I'm feeling, what I'm thinking. These are my thoughts, my process. This isn't where I 'live,' so you don't have to worry about me. :-P

(c) 2007