Motherless on Mother’s Day

I wasn’t prepared for this new wave of pain.

I knew December would be a low point in my first year of grief. My mom’s birthday and my parents’ wedding anniversary is December 13th. I knew celebrating those occasions without her, in addition to the holidays, would be difficult.

I never expected Mother’s Day without my mother to hurt this much.

After writing that out and rereading my words, it feels almost silly to admit that my recent sadness has taken me by surprise. Obviously a holiday all about mothers would be sad after your mother dies. But in all honesty, my family has never gone all out for Mother’s Day (or Father’s Day). We might remember cards. If we can come home, we go our for a special meal. At the very least, we always call. (For what it’s worth, my family loves to celebrate our birthdays to the fullest, and we’re also conscientious about expressing gratitude to each other for the small things throughout the year).

But even though Mother’s Day hasn’t been a big deal in our family, it still hurts to watch everyone else celebrate today.

It’s not so much that I want to make my mom breakfast or buy her flowers or go shoe-shopping together. It’s not this one holiday that sucks.

It’s just that everyone keeps talking about their moms and their plans with their moms while mine is gone. I get to brag about what Mom did. What a great mother she was. I know that her love for me will never end, but that’s a small comfort when I consider spending the rest of my life never again getting to hug her or to hear my mom tell me she loves me.

At the same time, I’m so grateful for all the years I did get to spend with my mother. We shared so much over the years. Having Crohn’s Disease isn’t exactly awesome, but I did share quality time with my mother driving to most of my appointments with my pediatric gastroenterologist in Augusta.

On brighter notes, Mom and I did theatre together. We took a trip to Denver together for her high school reunion, just the two of us. She guided me through Junior Miss, the only pageant I ever did, and my debutante season. We planned my wedding and my wedding receptions together. She even hemmed my wedding dress, took up my straps, and added pink lace to my bodice. I might not have inherited her green thumb, but she did teach me to love flowers.

Mom always supported my writing. She loved reading my blog, and she bragged to anyone who would listen when I published my first article on The Huffington Post.

Not having her with me just sucks.

They say time heals all wounds, but I’m not sure I’ll ever completely get over my mother’s death.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy.