Friends, this weekend is going to be extremely hard for me. While most of you are out celebrating either being a mom or celebrating the woman who *is* your mom, I won’t be celebrating. And I’m pretty sure I’m not alone.
You see, I’m 35 and I don’t have kids – not from a lack of trying, it just doesn’t seem to be happening. And yet, I still get “So when are you going to get pregnant?” or “I bet your dad would love more grandkids”, as though it were entirely up to me.
On top of that, I don’t have a mother. She died when I was 27. She didn’t get to see me get married. She won’t be around if nature ever decides to grant me children (doubtful). Losing your mom just as you’re beginning to get it together as an adult is extremely hard. Much harder if you’re a child, I’m sure, but still. I bet when you moved out you still called your mama for advice, recipes, how-tos and just to chat, growing a friendship with that woman who was the bane of your existence in your teen years, but whom now you can’t imagine not having around. I didn’t have that luxury for very long. I miss it dearly. Some days I long for it.
Losing a parent is never easy. It’s a strange feeling. It means that you’re next in line. It means that you’re going it alone. It means that resource, that person who loves you unconditionally is just … gone.
It does get better. My first Mother’s Day without mom was horrible. Being a teacher made it harder, because I had to coordinate Mother’s Day activities when all I really wanted to do was ignore that the holiday even existed.
Today, I can sort of smile knowingly as the neighborhood kids bring home cute projects they made with their own hands for their mama and proudly present them early because they just can’t wait until Sunday.
I hope that in the midst of all of your well-deserved celebrating, you might consider saying a prayer for someone like me – someone who longs to be a mama, but isn’t and longs to spend the day with her own mama, but can’t. For us the day will be extremely hard. Writing this is extremely hard – I’m crying as I type. But it needs to be said.
Those of us without a reason to celebrate don’t want to take away from your joyful time – but we would like to be remembered, hugged, prayed for.