Rewriting Mother’s Day
Posted by Elizabeth
In conjunction with Momalom’s “Five for Ten” Challenge, today’s theme is Courage.
Sunday was my first Mother’s Day. Sort of. I am 24 weeks pregnant with my first child, which makes me feel like a sort-of mother, but my friend, Sarah, thinks that I’m a full-fledged member of the club. Last week she wrote in an email, “You are already a Mom in my book as you are already giving up your body and mind to take care of your little girl.” Who am I to argue?
The day dawned brightly, with unexpected emails, Facebooks wall posts, and text messages wishing me a Happy Mother’s Day. In the afternoon, the woman who shot our wedding photographs nearly five years ago came over to the house to take a series of pregnancy portraits, immortalizing the next chapter in our lives, this fragile moment in time, forever. For two hours I was hyper aware of my bourgeoning status, cradling my growing belly, posing in profile, gazing downward. When the photographer tilted the camera towards me to show me a favorite shot on the viewing screen, I could hardly believe my eyes. I am going to be a mother. I am a mother.
Still clad in head-to-toe black from the shoot, Maikael and I made our way to our favorite Mexican restaurant afterwards, where other mothers knowingly smiled at me as I guided my obviously-pregnant frame through the maze of tables. Over fresh guacamole and handmade fruit drinks we picked up a long-standing debate where it had left off the day before: how are we going to spell and pronounce our daughter’s name? When we had exhausted that subject and left it as unsettled as before, we discussed another favorite topic: what will it be like when the baby is here? These discussions often feel as if our alter egos are talking, a version of us-but-not-us. Sometimes I stand outside of myself and wonder, are we really having this conversation? On our way out of the restaurant, Carlos hands me a sturdy red rose from the refrigerator and says, “Para la madre.” I am going to be a mother. I am a mother.
On the car ride home, it dawns on me that I haven’t thought a great deal about the flip side of Mother’s Day: being a daughter. In the eight years since my mom died, Mother’s Day has passed more or less without incidence. Although Mother’s Day never meant much to my mom, I felt I owed her memory bitterness towards the day, and those first few years I preferred to bury my head in the sand and avoid restaurants, brimming with happy mothers and daughters, at all costs. As the years ticked by and the sadness chipped away, I began sending cards to my favorite mothers, my best friends who became mothers themselves one by one. It felt like a better use of energy.
As I prepare to become a mother myself, I have the chance to rewrite my relationship to my own mother, to revise what Mother’s Day means. Grief has a tendency to weigh us down, tethering us with guilt when we consider moving beyond its boundaries. It takes courage to rewrite a relationship, to move on without feeling like we’ve moved on. I’ll never forget Sherian Flowers Grant on Mother’s Day, but I can focus my attention on a new life without abandoning her memory. I can be a daughter who still misses her mom each day. I can be a mother who is grateful to have a daughter.
How have you rewritten your relationship to Mother’s Day, or any other holiday or tradition? How do we breathe new life into a budding stage of life without forgetting what’s come before?
May 11th, 2010 at 6:36 am
I’m excited for you to rewrite your mother’s day. I think you’re striking a great balance between allowing yourself grief, and allowing the day to become somethign new. It’s interesting…because I’m blessed to still have my Mom, she’s all I really think about on Mother’s Day. The day is still all about her, and all about my role as a daughter. I feel fortunate in that respect, but I also hope the meaning of the day changes for me too someday.
May 11th, 2010 at 9:51 am
Loved your post. For a mother to be.
May 11th, 2010 at 11:28 am
Dangitall, I’m teary. I cannot imagine what Mother’s Day will feel like when I lose my mother.
I am so excited for you to experience motherhood…I know you’ll be a wonderful, thoughtful mom.
Happy Belated Mother’s Day.
May 11th, 2010 at 11:36 am
Ah, bugger. You made me cry before lunch.
That was beautiful.
May 11th, 2010 at 12:49 pm
“It takes courage to rewrite a relationship, to move on without feeling like we’ve moved on.” Oh, isn’t this the truest thing I’ve read all day. I think it is a part of grieving. The acceptance that things have changed. Allowing yourself to let go – just a little – without feeling you’re betraying those you’ve lost.
I’m still rewriting my relationship with my mom. We weren’t very close when I was young, and she is still very preoccupied raising my brother and sister. Sometimes I wonder if we’ll ever have that close mother-daughter bond I hear about. I’m not closing the door on that possibility. I’m just taking it one day (or week) at a time with her.
May 11th, 2010 at 5:51 pm
I have to tell you, I have wanted for many years to rewrite some of my own relationships. It’s incredibly difficult. And, I find, not something you can do alone. Time and circumstance come between you and the person you want to be to the person you want to be with. Or near. Or in any sort of a relationship with. And it definitely takes courage.
On another note…Squee! You’re going to be a mom. And you are about to enter (have already entered in many ways) the bravest role of your life. Day in, day out. With ups so high and downs so different than the one you know now.
Love this post, Elizabeth. And I hope more people take the time to read it.
May 11th, 2010 at 7:40 pm
I am intrigued by the concept of rewriting your relationship with your mother. I understand re-writing your relationship with Mother’s Day. But I am curious as to why — and how — someone rewrites a relationship with a person because there are a few in my life I would like to rewrite perhaps. And if they are gone, (either passed away or no longer in your life) can you do this on your own? I hope you will write more about this… I am trying to come back up for air after a few brutal weeks — but am happy to be back at LiP reading you and Anne. Makes me happy.
May 11th, 2010 at 7:47 pm
Hi, Emily. It’s a good question you ask about rewriting relationships who are absent from our lives for one reason or another. I believe we CAN rewrite relationships without the other person — which sounds a little counter-intuitive, I know. There are all sorts of circumstances where we need to resolve something within ourselves that is relational in nature, and sometimes we simply don’t have the opportunity to do it with the other person. I’d be happy to write more about the HOW of this topic in the near future, because it’s something I’ve thought a lot about, and worked through, and am interested in. We’re glad you’re back, too!
May 12th, 2010 at 2:14 am
I am so happy that Mother’s Day is being redefined for you. Your mother lives on in you and in your daughter. It’s amazing that it took your daughter to put you in a position to see it, she is a blessing already!!
May 13th, 2010 at 11:30 am
Beautiful thoughts on the courage it takes to move past grief and into celebration. I just lost my dad three weeks ago and I know father’s day is going to be tough. I’m going to need all the strength and courage I can get to move beyond tears and celebrate my blessings – my boys have a father I adore. And they adore him, too.
Happy mother’s day belated to you. Thanks for sharing this through momalom.