Ever since I became a mother, 20 years ago, I’ve considered this “holiday” second only to Christmas and Easter. We mothers do a lot, day in and day out, and are rarely thanked for any of it. And that’s okay, at least for me, because I happily signed up for it. But it is nice to have a day set aside just for us.
When I was a Cub Scout and Girl Scout leader, I was driven to have my charges make unique keepsakes that their mamas (many of whom were my friends as well) would cherish. We sponge painted flower pots, made alphabet bead creations, and baked. We sprouted seeds, made planters, and created cards. Mother’s Day is, after all, one of the most special days of the year!
My own family has taken me to one of may favorite nurseries each Mother’s Day for the past decade or so, where we spent ridiculous amounts of money on flowers and plants and statuary. We’d then return home, where I’d putter about the yard and my pots, transplanting and watering and in general having a thoroughly enjoyable day. And then we’d eat together… most often take and bake pizza,,, and I’d go to bed a happy mama.
But the loss of my own mother this past year has me far off balance. Everywhere I go, I am reminded of her absence; the card displays and bouquets in the grocery store, signs shouting: Remember Mom!, the commercials… they almost seem to taunt. My mama is gone.
We usually took her to the nursery with us, and my husband always bought her a very nice basket or planter that she’d say was too much, but he would just insist, “It’s Mother’s Day.” And she would help me in the yard, until that got too difficult, and then she would watch me from the deck and maybe help with the pots…
I’m not doing the nursery this year. I don’t want to do anything this year.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mama. I love you. ❤