Today is the day to celebrate the mothers of the world.
We all come from a mother, but not all of us still have mothers to celebrate.
Some mothers may have been lost to death, some lost to mental illness, and some mothers we may have chosen to lose because they just missed the motherly mark.
This is an ode to you all. I feel you.
I began losing my mother the year I was born. She was hit from behind in a simple car accident. The guy that drove into her was actually just distracted while gazing at a rainbow, the irony! This distractingly beautiful rainbow caused my mother decades of pain — from back surgery to back surgery to pain killer to pain killer, my mother was lost in it all.
I really lost my mother when I was four years old. My little sister had just been born, and my mother was in a routine check up appointment when the nurse asked my mom, “Is everything ok?” My mom burst into tears. The nurse prescribed her Zoloft. From anti-depressant to anti-anxiety, therapist to psychiatrist, manic-depressive to bipolar diagnoses, Baker Act to rehabilitation, I lost my mother to her suffering.
I lost my mother years ago but currently, it feels more fresh than ever. My mother left home, unannounced, about six months ago and never came back. She didn’t come home for thanksgiving. She had my dad served with divorce papers early December. She didn’t come home for Christmas. My family is confused, my family is hurt, my family is angry. Communication has been slim. She messaged me a photo on Instagram in December of the family dog she took with her, and when I kindly replied letting her know how I’m feeling (this was a VERY new thing for me to attempt — you know, the sharing feelings with my mom thing), she told me, “Everyone has a battle we know nothing about, just be nice.”
But here’s the silver lining on this rainbow-ridden storm cloud — my mother and her suffering have been my greatest guru. Watching my mother live her life in a dark, negative, victim state caused me to pursue the light, positivity, and empowerment this life has to offer. I am who I am because of my mother, suffering and all.
To all the mothers lost, I want to celebrate the sensationally complex, yet simple fact that you birthed us. You gave us life. Thank you.
To all those who have lost a mother, I want to honor your loss. Know you are not alone, and I challenge you to practice gratitude and forgiveness to those who birthed you, and those who left you. And if you’re still holding on to a mother that can not be a mother to you, I challenge you to let her go. This doesn’t mean say goodbye to the woman who birthed you, just goodbye to the mother you expect her to be.
Happy Mothers Day.