As a mother, Mother’s Day is supposed to be our day. We wake up to messy breakfasts in bed, handmade gifts and praises of love. We dress in our finest, fellowship with other mothers and enjoy food cooked by someone else. We are celebrated. All of that sounds great, right? Until Monday rolls around and it’s business as usual.
But, that’s not why I abhor Mother’s Day. I have had three Mother's Days thus far, well four if you count the one in utero. I can't think of one that didn't just feel like any other Sunday.
I am a single parent who has little to no support. We don’t have close family, my friends are limited, and interactions with people in general are limited so it’s mostly just the two of us getting on each other’s nerves. Every day is a struggle. There are no breaks, no moments of silence. It’s like I'm trapped in motherhood.
Then on Mother’s Day there is a sudden influx of gifs in pastels wishing me happiness in my entrapment. With each buzz of a new message my soul sinks. Not that I’m unappreciative of the thoughts on this day, but I start wondering when these people will check on us again. Am I sad, or am I angry? Maybe I’m disappointed?
Mother's Day isn't special
I have a disdain for all holidays (don’t get me started on Valentine’s Day) but Mother’s Day breaks my heart for my child. We don’t get calls from grandma or playdates with cousins or random hang outs at your favorite person’s house. No one remembers he exists until this day, when I’m being sprinkled with happy wishes.
Mother’s Day is not about celebration, it’s about remembrance. We remember we have mothers, we remember we know mothers, we ironically sometimes want to forget we are mothers. Who are you remembering today instead of celebrating? Single motherdom in challenging, doing it all alone becomes formidable.
I hope this is a day of celebration for you instead of a day of remembrance.