This year, I have had some emotional moments when I think of this holiday. I vary from incredibly grateful for the day, to down right disturbed that it is so in your face and for some, a day of pain. Pain for the loss of a mom, a chance to become a mom, or just a reminder of a torn relationship with a mom.
Recently, a close family friend passed, and that has me thinning of her children and grandchild. I can not imagine the personal loss and to be thrust into this season of retail slaps in the face. I am more than in love with my mom each day, and can tell you, that this day is a joyous one for me and my family.
This year is especially unique for me. I have my mom, the only person in my whole world who knows every inch of my being, and loves me in spite of her knowledge. I recently mended a very broken relationship with my mother-in-love, and never in a million years did I think I could not only come to forgive past hurts, but love and respect this woman who gave me her son. I am so grateful to be able to share a Mother's Day meal with her this year, and all the meals that we have shared since learning to appreciate each other.
And then my own children, that I wanted more than anything from as long as I can remember…. I never want presents, and even worse than not wanting a present, I really don't care for money being wasted on a card. Turns out, my migits have been trying to sneakily make me a card on their own, and I love that thoughtfulness. The real gift came when Shay and I were talking the other day. She was talking about a parent she knows, and the lack of ability she feels this parent has. It was weighing heavily on her wise beyond her seven-year-old mind. I asked her what sort of parent she thought she might be one day.
Shay- "I hope to be a strict and silly Mommy- like you."
As long as both of my children know that I love them, and EVERY SINGLE decision is made with love and consideration to their needs, I can know that I have done my job, as a mom, to the best of my ability.
Aside- My mom and I were driving in the car the other day. She was lamenting on her own parenting skills and how she must have done something wrong. (I had a kind of crazy teenage experience that seemed more traumatic to my mom than me. Run away, drugs, expelled from school, etc. Sorry Ma. I really am.) I asked her, in all seriousness, "Did you do your best? Did you think you gave parenting your best?" She said she thought she had. I laughed. It wasn't until she answered that did I think it was funny. I mean, isn't hindsight 20/20? I think she did the best she knew how to do. Was she perfect? No. But, who is? Well, of course, there is Mary, but come on, she was even conceived without blemish! I am not perfect. And I want my children to see my imperfections and to accept my limitations. However, I believe I am doing the best I can, and hope that one day when my children grow up, they are a legacy I can be proud of.