Today has been exactly one month to the day since my mother passed away. Yesterday I went to see a grief counselor, to help in this healing process. She told me that all of the “firsts” are going to be the hardest. The first Mothers Day, first Thanksgiving, first Christmas, etc. Unfortunately for me my first motherless Mothers Day is so soon, this Sunday to be exact.
My mom is not here, so I can’t spend the day with her or lavish her with gifts. The only thing I can do is celebrate her, and pour myself into my own children. One thing I want to do for her this Mothers Day though is tell you about her. I want my readers to know about the woman who made me into what I am, because if you ever see a good quality in me, you can be sure it came from her.
I could tell you that my mothers favorite color was purple, or that her favorite flowers were lilies. I could tell you that she was a petite woman with dark blonde hair, and greenish- hazel colored eyes. I could tell you that she wore Hanae Mori perfume from the “Butterfly” collection, which is ironic because she hated butterflies. I could tell you that she tanned well in the summer, and how much she loved bathing in the sun. I could tell you that she loved to read, and her favorite kind of stories were mysteries and science fiction. I could tell you all of these things but they wouldn’t matter to you if you never knew her. So I want you to know her, at least how I knew her.
My mom was the oldest of her 3 sisters, born an identical twin though sadly her twin sister, Rhonda, passed away shortly after birth. Her parents were divorced, though both of her parents remained very involved with their girls. She grew up in the suburbs of Detroit, Michigan, where she would later raise my brother and myself as well. She was beautiful and outgoing. Somewhat rebellious, but never reckless. She loved aqua-net hairspray, and was a perfectionist with a bottle of nail polish. She liked to chat over a cup of coffee on the front porch in the fall. She loved to think about the conspiracies of the world, like “is Big Foot real,” and “what is really hiding at Area 51?” She loved to sing even though she wasn’t very good at it. She was goofy in a good way. For example, she liked to pretend she had a British or an Irish accent and get to talking about anything and everything just to make people laugh. She enjoyed making fairy gardens, and painting rocks with her grand kids. We had our own secret language that few could understand, and we would speak it to each other when a message needed to be relayed for our ears only. She was feisty with a kind spirit, and had an amazing capability to care for others. Her grand children meant everything to her, and there’s no argument that she was absolutely the best mother she could be.
She had me when she was young. She was 16 when she became pregnant with me, and 17 when she gave birth to me. The first selfless thing she ever did for me was make the choice to keep me. A scared teenage mother chose to give up her own dreams and devote herself to a baby who didn’t ask to be born. Some people might think that a teenage mom couldn’t be a great mother, but boy would she prove those people wrong. I couldn’t have asked for a better mother if I was able to hand pick her myself. Since she was young when she had me, we got to grow up together. To give you a visual, think “Gilmore Girls” but blonde. In a lot of ways my mom and I also had a sister-like relationship, and she was my best friend all of my life. I am glad she didn’t wait, even though I’m sure that it put a lot of hardship on her to be such a young mother. Knowing now her fate to die early in life, being a young mom gave us more time together.
My mom was the kind of mom that would give you the last of her ice cream just because you asked for it, even if you already scarfed down your own, and even though it was chocolate with peanut butter cups which was her favorite. She was the mom who picked you up for lunch every day in second grade to make your favorite lunch and help you with your school work, because your ADD was holding you back in school but she wanted to help you catch up instead of medicate you. She was the mom that wouldn’t allow you watch scary movies, but still let you sleep in her bed late at night when you got scared because you sneakily watched them anyways at a friends house.
She was the kind of mom that woke you up early every morning in junior high school to do your hair and makeup for you, because your coming of age self didn’t know how to apply eyeliner to save your life. She was the kind of mom that helped you late night cram the project for school that you procrastinated for weeks. She was the kind of mom that stayed up all hours curled up on the sofa consoling you through your first heart break. She was also the kind of mom that helped you plot revenge against the first boy who broke your heart. She was the kind of mom who forgave you for being a rotten teenager, and loved you through all your mistakes.
She was the kind of mom who helped you move across the country when you became married at 18, even though it broke her heart. She was the kind of mom who put you on her cell phone plan because the two of you talked so often that the bill was outrageous (this was back before everything was unlimited). She was the kind of mom that couldn’t stand the distance between the two of you so she also moved across the country just to be near you and your children. She was the kind of mom that gave you good advice when you had marriage quarrels instead of just getting mad with you.
She was the kind of mom that even when she got sick she watched your kids for you until she couldn’t anymore. She was the kind of mom that you stayed every night you could at the hospital when she wasn’t doing well, because you know she would do the same for you. She was the kind of mom that you prayed fervently for that God would give her just one more day. She was the kind of mom that even in her suffering she would comfort you and tell you that everything is going to be okay. She was the kind of mom who used her last breath to tell you that she loves you always. She was the kind of mom that leaves an imprint in your heart forever, even after she is gone. She was the kind of mom that you want to be for your children, and that’s how she will live on.
This Mothers Day my mom isn’t with me. However she does get to be in heaven with her mom, and I’m sure you can probably guess that her mom was just as great as her. So, happy Mothers Day in heaven this year mamma! Give Grandma a hug for me. If your mom is still here this mothers day please give her your love. Spend the day with her if you can. Send her (or bring her) flowers. Tell her you love her. Don’t take her for granted.
3 thoughts on “The Motherless Mothers Day”
I’m speechless 😢😭😢😢
Thank you, thank you! While I make claim to be/have been her favorite cousin, I’ve come to realize that even though I without a doubt loved/love her — I’m ashamed to admit that I knew so little about her, like her favorite color. Purple! Really? Why did I not know that?
Sometime, if you would, could you take one of those silly Facebook type quizzes where you list things like fave book, movie and song etc. but list your mom’s replies? I would love to learn as much about her as you’re willing to share 😄
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Had to stop halfway through started crying and got tears in my ears (laying down while reading) 😭 stay strong girl 💙