I didn’t write this post to share, it’s been sitting in my draft folder and it’s not exactly my usual style of glitter and sparkle.
I’ve had a few weeks off of the blog, mainly just balancing myself out and dealing with life. Blogging is fabulous, but it’s always an extra effort for me and being the CEO and cleaner means I take time off when I need it. I wrote this post for cathartic needs just before the UK celebrated Mother’s Day…enjoy x
I feel sad. I don’t usually…I can’t work out why I feel like this and it’s been going on for more days than I wish to count. I thought it might be because I had a bit of a cold around me, but that can’t be true because despite being a tiny tot of 4ft11 my immune system is 7ft thanks to being at school for over thirty years. It’s half way through term so I thought it might be that, but the light of spring mornings means the weight of work isn’t so heavy…
And then it dawned on me.Mothers day. Since 2009 I’ve hated this day. I wasn’t a huge fan before; it’s fake much like valentines and all the other days the gift world, flower companies and card manufacturers like to celebrate by lining their pockets. This one is the worst, my least favourite.
After my daughter died this day felt empty. My eyes opened to every person who has lost their Mum, been bought up without their Mum, adopted, split families, missing families because of living abroad, dysfunctional families – frankly just not being able to hug, kiss or buy an over priced card for her. I also realised that due to the inevitability of death, we all would experience this pain at some point. The day seems sour. For Dads I guess the same would go for Father’s Day…
I thought having my son would feel the Mother’s Day void – it doesn’t. It just reminds me of what I’ve missed. Today he came home with some seeds in a pot and a homemade card (thanks Nursery) and I realised I should of received one of these already by now, grief sapped the joy and left me holding a pot of soil. He will start school in September, Gracie should be eight by then, so I should be a school run Mum pro…but I’m not, I haven’t a clue and until much nearer the time I shall live in a state of denial.
Greiving is endless and it never stops. It doesn’t get easier and nothing can replace, alter or change our situation. You do enter a club – it’s a special death club, entry is something nobody in the club signed up for and it comes with a life time membership card and not so much as a free pen. Your only positive is you are able to help or ease others who join the club after you, be it through illness or miscarriage…helping others and understanding is my only reward.
Other reasons I hate Mother’s Day include the fact you can’t escape it. Adverts on TV, pubs will bill boards outside, supermarkets with dedicated isles…you can’t even go out for a meal to escape it – not even mothers with children can book tables on this day.
You can stay inside but then you feel like your hiding. I couldn’t even buy my own amazing Mum a card for several years after my daughter died – this was mainly due to being scared of entering the shop without needing years of therapy, or crying on a Saturday girl who had an orange line of foundation around her face and in my own sadness saying something about it umongst the tears and endless snot, not to mention the hideous hyperventilating breathing. So I didn’t buy the card and she understood and never questioned. This is what makes her the best Mum in the universe and this is why I celebrate Mother’s Day nearly everyday of the year by calling her and ending each call with ‘love you bye’… keep your over priced roses, your posh choccies and a Mug that says ‘Mum’ I’m going 80s Maureen Lipman style /BT adverts – just call her because you can, if you are blessed to be able to.