I've got two small people of my own, so I can't really avoid the title, or the few stray people who don't really "know" and who will inevitably toss a well-meaning "happy Mother's Day" in my direction.
I have a general distaste for commercial holidays in general, and Mother's Day is no exception. We can't just instantly deserve praise and presents because we squeeze out babies. It shouldn't work that way, and having expectations attached to a specific day every May simply because we reproduced is kind of crap if you ask me. And I know you didn't, but you're here, and you're reading, so I'm telling you. So there. That kind of praise and recognition should be given when a mother is truly a mother. When she devotes herself to being a mother. When she dives in head first, and wears that word...not because she diddled some stranger in a parking lot in a drunken stupor, and shat out a baby nine months later because she couldn't afford an abortion. There's a difference in being a mother, and making babies.
Aside from that, there's that whole personal "mother issue" thing of mine, nagging in the background. Like one of those wiry hairs that gets stuck in your shirt, and just kind of pokes at you all day, until you're nearly nuts, and ready to strip naked in public to get rid of the fucker.
She's not there. And when she is, I wish she weren't. Ever.
What's left in her place is a big, gaping hole. A stub where a limb should be.
And every year, there is an entire day with her name pinned to it. And I hate it. In my eyes, and in my experience, she was the equivalent of the woman who diddled a stranger in a parking lot. And then, did little else.
I successfully ignore her every year, and have done so since I stopped speaking with her on a regular basis. It's not hard, and I'm not bothered, not really. Just the nagging reminder...
she isn't there. She wasn't there. Just a lot of really weird shit that I have tried to put into the hole she and my father have left.
But, I am a big girl. We will move forward, as always, and ignore this day (as is the unspoken tradition in our house.) Maybe we'll buy a potted plant for our Gran, and make that our new tradition.
And maybe I will sit a moment and be grateful that, for now, she's all alone, and I'm not. :p
Then, maybe I'll grow up a little on Monday.