Happy Mother's Day!

Mother's Day is such a funny "holiday." It's the one day a year people are supposed to recognize all the hard work that we do as mothers. One day?! Hmmm ... I won't go there. For me personally, Mother's Day -- focused outwardly -- is a really beautiful day. I first think of my mother, the woman who adopted me, the one whom I call "Mom," the woman who never thought of me as someone else's child, the woman who raised me and in so many ways shaped me into the woman I am today, the woman who holds a place in my heart that no one else ever will. My mom and I are two very, very different people -- where I am introverted, she is incredibly extroverted; while I love to entertain it does come at a cost to me, whereas my mother can pull off Thanksgiving dinner for 13 with ease; while I might be more easy-going with certain things, my mom can be quite set in her ways. We laugh like crazy, we love each other's company ... but we can also butt heads at times too. We are both very strong-willed individuals and that has been tested many, many times. I don't look upon my teenage years with great fondness -- in all honesty, that was the one time in our relationship, for a couple of years, that was just incredibly difficult. It's natural, but it wasn't pleasant. I'm glad now that I've grown out of it, she's grown more mellow ... all in all, my mom is certainly one of my best friends.

I think of my birthmother, too. Where is she on this day? Does she have her own children who give her cards and gifts? Does she even think about me? Heck, is she even alive? I have no idea. I've written about her before, and no matter what she's done in her life, I am thankful for her greatest "mistake," for if it wasn't for the great redemption of an error, I wouldn't be here, and I certainly wouldn't have the life that I have now.

I think of my grandmother, my mom's mother. I'll write about her again soon because she's been on my mind as of late. While she was alive, we had four generations going strong in our family, and I think about that strength of motherhood that has been passed down. My grandmother was a beautiful woman, a lovely spirit, but of course -- like all of us -- she had her down side. She had a tremendous amount of pride, and in the right context that's a good thing, but so often in her later years it didn't always come across in an appropriate way. She was stubborn -- oh was she stubborn! And quite passive-aggressive (kind of funny, coming from a woman in her late 80's). She had a close relationship with my mother, her eldest daughter, who in turn has a close relationship with me. Beautiful generations. I have a cherished photograph taken a year before my grandmother died, a picture of my grandmother sitting in her comfortable chair in her room at her assisted living residence, with my mom on one side, myself on another, as well as baby Aidan. He was a year and a half old when she died, and we took him to the funeral home for the viewing. We didn't have much choice, since the visiting hours were on a Sunday, and we were living in PA at the time. Don obviously had a service to do in the morning, and immediately afterward we jumped in the car and had to drive straight to the funeral home. At such a young age, Aidan was surprisingly silent, taking it all in -- the solemnity, the grief. He walked right up to the casket, saying, "There's grandma!" and jumped up onto the kneeler to get a better view. He was a bit perplexed seeing her lying there, and wanted to know why she was sleeping. Then in his beautiful childlike way he said, "Grandma, wake up! We're here!" I cry now just thinking about it. I miss the presence of that amazing woman, that amazing mother, in my life.

Then I think of myself, now a mother myself of two beautiful children and one little life that I lost. Sometimes I wonder how I ever got to this point, riddled with all of my fears and insecurities about being a "good mother." I was wracked with these feelings with Aidan's coming, but thankfully I've progressed a bit since then. I do feel more confident in myself as a mother, although I do have my days of doubt, as I'm sure we all do. But I have to laugh when I think of this day called "Mother's Day," realizing that out of all the days of the years, this day does the least in "honoring" me and my role. I will never, ever forget my first Mother's Day, a day I was rather looking forward to. I have to confess I was rather proud of my achievements -- I endured a great pregnancy (I'm one of those crazy people who actually liked being pregnant!), I gave birth naturally for 20 long hours, my baby at that date was 9 months old and an absolutely gorgeous little boy (although a horrible sleeper). I wanted to be lavished with tokens of appreciation from my husband, respecting me and honoring me for my new role as mother. I know, I know -- I totally set myself up. What did I get? A card and a Whitman's Sampler. I am so not kidding. I have to admit that I was stunned. Did I dare ask, "Where's the rest of it?" (I didn't.) I was so taken aback I didn't know how to react. Oh, and it gets much, much better. When Father's Day arrived the following month, my husband bought himself a leather jacket. Unbelievable!

I have forgiven him ... but clearly I haven't forgotten. :) So what's in store for me this Mother's Day? Nothing. My husband isn't even here. That's OK, though -- it's work-related. He's involved in a expo in NYC and has been working for the past four days straight. So I will be spending Mother's Day alone, with my kids ... it's been a long, long, few days. We'll go upstairs to my parents' house for tea in the afternoon, perhaps -- that's my celebration. I guess that's more true to motherhood than any ceremony or day of honoring, isn't it? So often putting yourself last, so often knowing that about 98% of what you do goes unnoticed, yet that 98% is so crucial to the development and nurture of your children. The day is what I choose to make it, and tomorrow -- Mother's Day -- I will stand up and affirm myself as a mother, and it will be a beautiful day, with my beautiful children.

My little treasures, who made me who I am today

Happy Mother's Day to all of you, my friends, who are mothers ... whether you have children of your own, whether your children are adopted, whether you do not have children but have been mothers in a very real way to others by your selfless giving and tremendous love. On this day acknowledge the beauty of your role and know that you are loved.