Life isn’t a Hallmark commercial.
I think that’s why I found myself crying while folding the laundry and half-watching the television. The Mother’s Day commercials that usually leave me saying “Aww” have left a bittersweet taste in my mouth this year. For the first time, I understand what so many other women feel about just skipping the day all together. The day just serves as a reminder of what could’ve been.
Now, I know what you’re thinking–that I’m dwelling in the land of have-nots instead of remembering the blessings under my roof, but I’m not dwelling there. Sometimes, my mind just seems to peek over the fence for a while when I think about the empty chair at the kitchen table. You see, I realized that every first milestone I pass on the freshly paved road of grief will be be a little painful this year.
Mother’s Day just so happens to be my first hurdle.
I could say the things like “Every day is Mother’s Day” and other little platitudes, but that would be a load of empty words. Yes, I’m a mother of two boys and every day is, in fact, Mother’s Day, but then we go and place a special day on the calendar to celebrate. We schedule baby dedications and bring the kids in from children’s church to hand out roses to their mommies. We ask the mothers to stand while we clap for them in appreciation, while others silently want to slide under their seat and crawl to the nearest exit.
