It’s Mother’s Day and I find myself in a weird gray area, a little stuck and lot confused. I guess it’s because I don’t really feel like a mother. I know that I am, but knowing and feeling are two entirely separate things. I got some Mother’s Day texts, cards, and wishes and didn’t know how to respond. I feel fuzzy around the edges, not quite in focus, undefined.
The word mother is both noun and verb. I’m your mother, but you’re not here for me to mother. I can mother your sister and brother, but I’m not their mother. It’s everything and nothing. All the way and nowhere close. Too much and not enough. It leaves me feeling unsettled and purposeless. Like I’m screaming but it’s silent.
It’s a strange place, this grayness, but I think it’s exactly where I’m supposed to be at this moment. I’m striving to blend the noun of mother with the verb of mothering, taking the lessons I’m learning from being your mother in your life and in your death and applying them to how I mother your big sister and brother and, perhaps, someday your little ones.
Grace, forgiveness, realness, patience, thankfulness, openness, joy, humility, simplicity, gratitude, and above all else, love.
On this day for mothers, I thank you for making me a mother and for teaching me about mothering. Thank you for opening my heart and soul to the blessing of children. Thank you for guiding me on my journey and lighting my path toward my best self. I miss you every second of every day but at the same time, I always feel your presence surrounding me. You are my heart’s song, sweet baby.
I kiss you.
Love you forever,