How to do Mother’s Day without Mom

So, I’m not a big fan of Mother’s Day anymore. Mind you, I used to be! I used to start thinking about how to honor and bless and love on my mom months in advance of this special day, and there was no one that experienced more joy in receiving love (and gifts) than my mom! Then she died. I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to mistake my lack of Mother’s Day enthusiasm as having anything to do with honoring mom’s in general. Trust me, there’s no one that deserves more accolades and appreciation than these amazing heroes and life-givers (literally). Admittedly, I am not a real mom. I mean, I have two adult step-daughters who don’t live nearby and two pups who adore me, but I’m not an “actual” mom who raised kids from diapers to adulthood.

I’m being cynical (especially for being a life coach), but for me, now, Mother’s Day is really just an agitating reminder of the fact I have no mom and I’m not a “real” mom. There are a lot of agitating reminders, but Mother’s Day is by far the most egregious. The brunches, the cards, the commercials, the flowers – they all make me feel like I’m the Grinch and the world is singing “fahoo fores” while I’m up on a frozen mountain with my self-pity and a dog in a reindeer disguise.

But I’m not alone on the mountain, there are tons of people up there. Some of them are trying to ‘make the best of it’ and some of them are trying to ignore the day altogether. They’ve lost mothers, grandmothers, children, and/or pregnancies and most of them feel emotions ranging anywhere from a tinge of longing to a desire to stay in bed until the day has passed.

I must admit, I feel ashamed of my negative attitude because I truly have so much to be grateful for. I have a wonderful mother-in-law, and I have the love and support of many strong and beautiful mothers. Yet still, I can’t seem to shake my bitterness at other mother/daughter duos, my desire to ‘not make a fuss’ over the day, and my tendency to ‘get my dates mixed up’ and ‘accidentally’ leave town. (As I write this, I’m about 3 hours away from home sitting in a coffee shop where I know no one.)

No one ever wants to join the “I lost a parent" club. Fortunately when you do, you'll find that these are the people you needed in your life and they came at the perfect time. These are the people who will set their cell phone to a different ringer for you so they absolutely won't miss your call at 2am. These are the people who let you cuss (even though you love Jesus!) because life is just not fair anymore. These are the people who will let you still be upset a month, a year, even 10 years from now. That brings me to my next point…

People seem to expect you to be okay after about a month. If they aren't a part of the “I lost a parent" club, people expect you to be okay pretty fast. Once the shock of the funeral wears off, people will slowly start to forget about your pain and expect you to be normal again. It's okay to avoid people for a little while. It's okay to still be grieving. Remind those you love how hard this is. For me, it’s been five years since Mom died. And, quite honestly, these have been the hardest five years of my life. It seems like a constant pair of imaginary sunglasses now cover my face. This is not to get any sympathy, but rather just to prepare you if you haven’t lost your mom – life just gets a bit darker and grayer. And, while we’re here, the idea of “lost” is a total misnomer, because unlike that sock that got “lost” and showed up three laundry loads later, your mom is gone for good.

Okay, this has ended up being way more down than I ever anticipated, and I can promise you that this is not my norm, but perhaps it’s relieving to know that THIS life coach is as real as they come, and it just so happens that I decided today would be a perfect day to write a blog post, and, well, I’ve explained the rest of it.

But, my friends, please know this: time does heal a few of the hurts, and memories are always comforting. Also, I’m a lot closer to my dad than ever before! I think we try to fill in the huge gap that we both experience on the daily with the every-evening-conversations about how our days went. It’s mostly because that’s just what I did every night of my life with my mom. It’s not the same with Dad, but it’s very sweet that we are both trying to fill part of what is so obviously missing in our lives now.

At the end of the day, when your mom has left this earth, you'll be jealous of everyone else who still has a mom. (Especially when they take her for granted.) From this point forward, you shall never complain about your parent in front of me again. Because darling, you have no idea how lucky you are and how much I want to be in your shoes.

And here’s your lesson from this life coach: Cherish them. Love them. Be thankful you have one more day with them.