Mother’s Day

Oh how I miss my mother! It’s been four months and fourteen days since Mom died, but it seems like yesterday. The pain is still so acute and unrelenting, then along comes Mother’s Day.

Our Mother’s Day ritual was ingrained from youth — take Mom to brunch after church, then hit the nursery for the flowers she loved to plant. Geraniums were her favorites, followed closely by impatiens, morning glories, and those hardy pansies. Mom used to say that pansies could survive anything, despite their name.

Today is completely different. I don’t go to church much anymore, but that’s a different story. I’m still in my PJs, working on a girl scout craft for our upcoming Camporee. I’m doing my best to keep busy, but the tears are right there, ready to flow. The weather isn’t helping. It’s rainy and gloomy, just like my mood. With any luck, the sun will pay us a visit this afternoon. Until then, I’ll plod along.

I like to think both my parents would be proud of the way I have handled all this change. While my therapist says that it’s ok to “ride the waves of grief,” some days that can feel like wallowing. So I’m letting the scouts and my work keep me busy. What I really need right now is a long book to edit. Let’s change the channel on this sadness!

I have so many friends who are mothers. I hope they have a wonderful day. But for me, it has to be just another day.

I love you, Mom. I miss you every day. Happy Mother’s Day!