It is Mother’s Day, and it’s another holiday I’ll be spending alone. But instead of feeling sorry for myself as I often do on holidays, today I choose to celebrate. I did not have children so that one day they would grow up and give me gifts or send me cards or flowers. I had children because John and I wanted to share our life and love in a tangible ongoing way. We wanted the joy of seeing our coupleness, our love, grow into a family and children whom we could nurture and teach and love. I have never for even a second regretting having children.
The fact that my children are with their own loved ones today testifies that they are fulfilled and happy adults. What mother could ask for a better gift?
I know they love me. My daughter just spent a good deal of money and time to fly with her husband to Hawaii to spend a week with me there so I wouldn’t have to be alone. Even though I don’t get to see her as often as I’d like -- since she is four hours away -- when we are able to spend time together it is positive and loving. But I know she has a full life with her husband.
My son, though closer in distance, has a hectic life with four boys. His wife chooses to spend all holidays with her family. She’s been doing it for more than 35 years; why change just because you marry and add a mother-in-law? He doesn’t really seem to have much input in those choices; often I think his life is run for him. In a way that saves him from having to make decisions. Though I know he doesn’t always agree with decisions that are made for him, I would rather be alone on holidays than have him get into a fight with his wife about me visiting them (them visiting me isn’t even on the table). When we do talk on the phone or on the occasions I am able to visit, he is warm and loving. And then there is my grandson, Jesse. I would love to see him more often -- and that is one of the hardest things -- but it is challenging to find times when their schedules and mine match up.
No, I don’t need a special day for my children to show or tell me they love me. I don’t need gifts to know they love me. I know in my heart they do. It’s the artificial building up of expectations, the commercialization that tells children they must spend money on this or that, that tells mothers they deserve certain treatment or the love is in question that sets us up for disappointment and frustration. I refuse to buy into that.
Finally, I don’t need flowers or candy or jewelry or brunches or cards or anything else to let me know I am a good mother and a worthy person. I know I am both. I know I raised two wonderful, loving children and that is enough. I have no interest in comparing them with other peoples' children. Life and motherhood are not a contest. I already know I’m a winner.
And, of course, Charlie is always there to remind me how loved I am.
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