Every day is Mother’s Day

bathouseWhat did I *not* do today? I did not get my hair done and put on my best pastel outfit and sit through an interminable Mother’s Day brunch at some restaurant somewhere. If you did a version of that (perhaps in basic black with turquoise-streaked hair or maybe a tie-dyed t-shirt), either to honor your mom or as the guest of honor, I hope you had a wonderful time. That’s not snark. I mean that! A few years ago, I happened to be in Sault Ste. Siberia on Mother’s Day and we (me, the GG, The Grinch, and Froggy) took Radical Betty and The Commander to the Hotel Ojibway for brunch (NpJane, you were there on a different, equally cool occasion). It was wondrous. The food was fantastic with a beautiful buffet including a chef who would cook an omelet to order on the spot. The seats are always comfortable and the view of the Soo Locks cannot be beat. (I think RB was happier about Froggy’s presence than The Comm…)

I don’t really know how to explain this. I don’t really miss my mother. I miss the life and times I experienced with her. Well, most of them. The Book Cadillac jeans argument (yesterday) is probably not one of them [grin]. I don’t miss the struggles we both went through the last ten months of her otherwise long happy life. The 10 months when her health slid downhill and she was *forced* to accept help from me and many others were not fun. I believe that her death was a relief for both of us and I have had only a few of those moments that the bereaved often report that they wished they could call their mom or whoever.

All that said, as I think I have said before in this space, I seem to be *channeling* The Commander! I think of her as I continue hand-raking old dead oak leaves and clipping off dead branches on our ugly hedges and commanding “Hey Mr. Tambourine Man, do you have a saw” to cut off some particularly thick branches. Oh, not to mention buying just the right garden tools. For me. Like small rakes and two of those fancy pocket hoses that people who watch TV see on TV. A woman at Stadium Hardware was all excited that they had been “upvoted” on some show on TV. Maybe I should watch more TV… Oh yeah… I made cookies today. I. Made. Cookies. Today. Just regular chocolate chip. The Comm *always* made cookies. Me? I know how. But not so much. Gertrude worked double time to get them baked with her two ovens. Love to Gertrude. The Comm would’ve loved her too — one of the few times I have wanted to call my mom was when I bought Gertrude!

I am certainly not upset that my children were not with me today. They both know what I think about this Hallmark-type holiday (I know that it didn’t really begin as a greeting card holiday). I love my children from here to eternity but I am happy that they have their own lives. I have spent many a Mother’s Day (and other more significant holidays) away from my beach urchins and I am accustomed to that (and so was my mother). One of the best Mother’s Day gifts I could ever receive is the knowledge that those children are off living their own successful lives and not feeling obligated to thank me for giving birth to them.

One Response to “Every day is Mother’s Day”

  1. Margaret Says:

    Great post! My girls are in California and I wish I were there with them, but not because it’s Mothers’ Day. I just like being together. The hardest part for me is that my husband would usually get me a card or a little plant. even though I would laughingly tell him that I wasn’t his mother. Making a big fuss over people for one holiday is silly; I’m glad that we both have healthy relationships with our kids EVERY DAY.