Last Tuesday my husband turned 60 and my mother turned 87. Two days later my daughter turned 30 and last night I threw the mother of all parties to celebrate their mile stone birthdays. It took weeks to coordinate, days to prepare the food and the house for out of town guests, and a small fortune was ‘invested’ in our local liquor store.
This Mothers Day like so many in my past, saw me cleaning house, changing beds and sorting empties, in between airport runs. I’m exhausted and a tad hung over (ok, self inflicted) and while there will be no fancy dinner out for me today, I feel a sweet sense of satisfaction and joy in my lot in this life.
This routine is not new. Mothers Day at my house was always overshadowed by family’s birthdays and over the years I always threatened to move Mothers Day into September, where we have no family celebrations and the day would be mine and mine alone, but I never did it and today for the first time I wondered why I hadn’t. Something feels different.
In truth, I’ve come to realize I really don’t mind my annual Mothers Day celebration (or lack thereof) because I’ve come to appreciate the occasion from a very different perspective. It was my husband who made me a mother – he can’t help that he was born so close to a national holiday that celebrates them. My daughter too is the reason I am a mother and that she arrived the day after Mothers Day 30 years ago simply reminds me that she was a gift, one of the best I ever got. (my other 2 children had the decency to arrive at neutral times of the year)
Instead of complaining about what I thought I was missing, I find myself enjoying the fact that I have these annual chores because they remind me that I have these people, these gifts, who made me “Mom”, and I wouldn’t change that for anything in the world.
However you celebrate Mothers Day I hope you take the time to reflect on those who made you a mother. You don’t need flowers or jewels, just the reminder that these people love and appreciate you, and they do. As I put my third load of sheets in to wash and prepare to mop my kitchen floor (if wine stains are any indication of a good time this must’ve been one helluva party!) I feel a wonderful sense of love for my husband and children who make every day of the year Mothers Day and if running myself ragged once a year to celebrate them in lieu of celebrating me, is all I have to do, I’m good with it. Thank you for giving me a reason to celebrate with you at all!
Happy Mothers Day!