Mother's Days are the hardest. My son and i cried over breakfast missing my mother. This was the first time i had seen him cry in a long time about missing her. Its only been a year and a half, and he was her only grandchild to have been able to grow with her and really learn from her. He is who he is because of what she was able to give to him. I dont remember too many things from when i was 7 and younger. Those memories get blurry with time. I'm so afraid he will lose her memory with every minute of time pressing forward.
My father had always told me that to him, Mothers Day was the most important day of the year. More than Christmas, anniversaries, or birthdays. We all came from a mother and that mother had to go through some horrible times in order to bring a new soul into the world. He always said that a mother has the most important job and a mother is irreplaceable. I never let one mothers day go by without my mom knowing how important she was to me.
My mother was told she couldnt have children when she came down with renal failure and had to have a kidney transplant. It would be dangerous for her to have a baby. She had one anyway, me. This woman had originally wanted many children and to be told just after marrying my dad and wanting to start that family but now couldnt had to have been almost as devastating for her as going through dialysis at 19 and wondering if youre going to be alive long enough to get a transplant. Imagine getting married and getting ready to just begin your life and future to almost immediately being told that you wont be able to have any of your dreams or live long enough to see them through if you try.
You never really look at how important you are to you parents through a microscope while growing up. You just understand that the basis of their life largely revovles around you. You understand they love you, pay for you, work for you, make sacrifices for you but you really can't comprehend what that means for a long time.
When my mom died, I started thinking about her life in moments as if i was there with her the whole time. I pictured her in the hospital at 19 hooked up to the dialysis machine, talking to the other dialysis patients and creating connections with them. My mother was a pro at connecting with people. She lived for it because every connection was a way for her to leave her mark, or imprint on the world before she left it. And she never knew when her number would be up but it could have been soon. I pictured her there hearing stories about their grandkids and them hoping to make it long enough to see one born, see their youngest graduate. I wondered how much it broke my moms heart having to think about the possibility of not seeing her kids graduate if she could have any at all.
I thought about her noticing upon every return to the hospital for dialysis that a certain patient was no longer coming back to join her. Then another. She must have been so frightened. I thought about how much i wished i could have hugged her in those moments to tell her that there was nothing to be afraid of. I pictured the moments she spent being pregnant for me and being so excited thinking about the kind of mom she wanted to be and all the plans she had to make this life with her the most special and magical after getting another chance at it. How happy she must have been to show off her pregnant belly because she could have never had the opportunity to do that at all.
I thought about how much she held her first baby girl and cried because she loved her so much. I thought about how my mother was determined to be the most loving, open, and caring mother she could be; more than her own mother. My mom broke generational curses and traumas. A lot of them stopped at her and she never let me or my brother hurt from them.
I thought about how many kisses she must have given me the first few days i was born, hoping i could somehow feel all her love through them. I thought about how proud she was of me all throughout my life. She always acted like i was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen and that i was the most unique person. Everything i did seemed to amaze her. And i get that now. After all, she created me. Her body, despite being cut open, broken, medicated, was able to grow a whole human being and give it all that it needed in order to survive, and she was lucky enough to be alive and watch her work grow.
I thought about how heartbroken she must have been when i fell and was hurt for the first time, when i started my first day of school, when i quit holding her hand, when i decided i was too cool to say "i love you." I thought about how heartbroken she was when i moved out after high school, when i was struggling as a young adult and she couldnt help my mentality, when my first boyfriend dumped me and fell into a horrible depression.
I thought about our fun shopping trips and adventures together, always laughing, how i was always able to help her out of the house to go have fun.
I thought about how much she loved being a grandma and would cry when i would pick my son up from her after work because she loved him so much too. I thought about the times she sacrificed on taking her medications she needed to survive for a few days just to keep food on the table for us.
I thought about the grief she went through when her dad died, and then when her mom died too.
I thought about all the times my mom sacrificed her sleep for us, her meals, her sanity, her time, her body, she gave and gave and gave, always. I though about how much my mom reached out to people that were sick and always encouraged them each day to keep fighting because she knows how it feels.
I thought about all the times she cried wondering if she was doing the right thing, cried when she felt alone and she was lonely a lot, was sad when no one could seem to understand her, how let down she must have been in the times when no one was in her corner, when i didnt make enough time to be there for her when she was going through hard times. She only ever wanted to be understood and heard.
I thought about how much time and effort she put into getting pictures of everyone. Guess whos the least pictured in our family and the one person i want pictures of now?
I thought about all the times my mom helped me out of bad situations, gave me hugs when i needed to know that someone was there for me, and how sad she was for me when i was so broken that i needed to go to therapy. I thought about her life in so much detail and all her feelings, love, worries, fear, sadness, grief. I thought about so many things all the way up to the last weekend she was home and had asked me to go antiquing with her and i turned her down because i didnt want to spend the money. I would spend all the money if i could have just that one opportunity back. I wanted to be there with her in those moments, to be her best friend, to be the hug she needed, to help her feel all the love she deserved to feel. She was such an amazing person and i always appreciated her for it but how i wish i could give her the appreciation she deserved from me because i owe her everything.
This article will never seem finished to me because she was a whole person with a bast intricate life that i dont have enough time to put into words. I wish i could because she deserves that and the world ahould know her story.
This one is to everyone who is missing their mom on mothers day. Especially anyone who has to be a mother without their own mother to be there with them. And to everyone with mothers still with them on mothers day, you are so very blessed. Happy Mothers Day