Mothers Day has always been a non-event in my life… get the mom some flowers, make a card, and be generally appreciative (way back in the day there was breakfast in bed involved; thanks mom for taking one for the team and choking it down as a good sport). Even now as a mom, it’s nice, but as I told husband the other morning (in discussion about “what I want for mothers day”), it’s not another birthday. A gesture of appreciation (ie, a nap that I don’t have to ask for, perhaps a pedicure) would greatly suffice. 

This year I feel like the “holiday” has exploded. Maybe it’s where I find myself – Babble comes up in my FB feed, which gears itself to moms of all types, and I’m friends with many mothers, so now it’s a part of conversation. Or maybe we Americans just know how to commercialize anything.
Nonetheless, a day usually composed of flowers, luncheons and I Love You’s has been elongated into a week’s worth of preparation and festivities. But that hasn’t helped me celebrate the day any better, no matter what the Today Show suggests.  
My mothers day perspective has changed over the years, largely in part to new perspective: I have friends who feel like perhaps they have less of a reason to celebrate the second Sunday in May. Those that have lost their mothers. Those whose mothers chose to walk away. Those who anticipate with great hopefulness being a mother and struggle each month with the disappointment that it will be that much longer (and sometimes this is true even after they’ve been a mother once – and the disappointment is still there, and still valid). There are those who “would’ve been” mothers and they count back the years to the difficult decision they made. All of these things remind me that motherhood – and mother-having – is not a right or a guarantee, but a gift. There is no Motherhood Patrol to police the world and make sure all is fair; so those that are blessed must uphold the right place of gratefulness for all that has been donned our way in terms of motherhood.
I’m grateful for a time each year that I can be appreciative of the wonderful woman in my life who has loved and cared for me, answered my calls at the least convenient moment and set a wonderful example of the way I hope to be present in the lives of my children. I’m grateful for the woman she is and the time I continue to have with her.  I’m not sure I’d be so introspective of my appreciation if I didn’t realize just how hard the day could be, and continues to be for many women. I hope that a luncheon and a pot of flowers (though thoughtfully selected) will make the message known: I have an idea of what my world would be like without, and I don’t like it. I don’t just need, but I want the continuing presence in my life. We don’t always get what we want; but today, I realize that I do.
I love you, mom!
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