Missing Mum on Mothers’ Day

I know I’m not the only one who doesn’t have a mum any more to make a fuss of today. Last year was raw, only a few weeks after she died. This year is a more general ache. Mum was the heart of our family gatherings, loved being surrounded by her children and grandchildren, and this year we’re all scattered doing our own thing.

To everybody else who is missing their mother today, I feel for you. I’m going to look through some photo albums now to remember the good times.

A dark haired woman looks at a construction brick house with two proud pale haired children showing it to her

Mum admiring a joint Lego construction from my brother and me



Categories: relationships

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11 replies

  1. (((hugs)))

  2. We lost our Mum three months ago last Wednesday. I’m just going to hunker down this year. Hugs.

  3. My mother died in 2006.
    Still get teary on Mother’s Day, etc.

  4. So many *hugs* for everyone.

  5. Then there are those of us who don’t miss our (deceased) mothers….

  6. Hugs for everyone missing their mothers, mothers missing their children or their desired children, and for those harmed by their motherhood relationships.

  7. Tigtog, the Mother’s day stuff isn’t so bad. I can avoid most of it, and the commercialized stuff is so crass I can’t take it seriously (I haven’t — yet — seen advertisements claiming that the best way to show your love for your mother is to give her a copy of Fifty Shades of Grey, but I’m sure it’s just because I haven’t been looking.)
    What’s a lot harder is the way the rest of the year articles and shows and individuals simply state as self-evident that mothers (without qualification) love their children more than anyone else ever can. You can’t really confess that it wasn’t that way for you (or didn’t feel that way) without feeling like the skunk at the garden party. Smile and nod, smile and nod.

  8. It’s not often you find a space or people with whom you feel OK telling difficult stories: ones that are painful and challenge accepted norms.
    I got to have a good relationship with my mother before she died. I had to let a lot of ideas about mothers and what they Should Do go; but was able to say “She was doing the best she could and it’s OK”. I am grateful for that good fortune. I’m doubly lucky. I can say that about my dad too. I’ve got siblings who can’t.
    We demonise women in all forms of media, yet The Mother is so romanticised/policed AMM feels uncomfortable telling her story. At the same time, the ‘bad’ mother is constantly being put before us – feeding her children bad food, not caring for them, over-protecting them, etc, etc, etc. All the women with children I know – and that’s a lot – feel the pressure to be a Good Mother. It’s something you never seem to achieve, you’re always striving for.
    I get twitchy around Mother’s Day (asides from not having the Official Day of Mum) because strangers assume I must be a mother (MIDDLE AGED LADY: MUST HAVE CHILDREN!!! ALERT!!!)and I really hate discussing being barren with acquaintances/strangers. Talk about the skunk at the garden party. It’s especially horrid at work because I can’t make jokes about how cats are more low maintenance. (WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU DON’T LIKE CHILDREN??!!1!)I envy a friend of mine who says point-blank “Children?!! Oh God NO! What a terrible idea!” She teaches secondary level. Parents at that level nod in agreement.

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