Yesterday was Mother’s Day, and what a wonderful day it was! Spending the entire day with Little Woman and Dude was no different than any other day, yet it was.
I was spoiled rotten. Little Woman made me breakfast in bed. Dude kissed and cuddled with me until I got my fill of cuddling (which is always never enough). I was given flowers and cards, then taken out to lunch at one of my favorite restaurants, where I was again smothered in hugs and kisses.
It. Was. Heaven!
I’m a simple woman, I don’t need much. Shove a fajita down my throat and tell me you love me. It’s that easy. At the end of the night, I was filled to the gills and exhausted, falling asleep with a huge smile on my face.
Being a mom is the most amazing, exhausting, fulfilling, frustrating, loving, difficult, rewarding job I’ve ever known. I love every single moment of the past 12 years and wouldn’t trade them for the world. My children define me. They’ve helped me realize my purpose in life. I’ve been given a gift, and treasure this gift every day.
Yet most don’t know that my own mother hasn’t been in my life for the past 25 years.
Growing up, I admired her. She was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Tall, long dark auburn hair, intelligent, beautiful blue eyes, great sense of humor and infectious smile. She would light up every room she entered, making heads turn and jaws drop. She gave warm hugs, sloppy kisses and always smelled amazing. She was my world, until one day, my world changed. Due to divorce, stress and happenstance, our relationship soured. At 17, I chose to move in with dad. That’s when the game changed.
At that point, I was ‘disowned’ by my mom. She was hurt. She felt abandoned. Harsh words were exchanged. We became deaf to each others screams. The elephant in the room consumed us both. Our relationship stopped. I desperately tried to repair the relationship, but without success. Eventually, I had to move on and live my life.
She never saw me graduate college. She wasn’t at my first wedding. She has never met my firstborn. She wasn’t there to comfort me during my difficult divorce. She wasn’t there as I struggled as a single mom. She wasn’t there for my second marriage. She wasn’t there when her second grandchild was born. Yet at the same time, she was always there; in the back of my mind, and in the depths of my heart. Her absence was always there, yet at the same time, I knew I could survive on my own.
Perhaps that was the greatest gift she ever gave me. Strength. Tenacity. Independence. The genes to be one tough motherfucking broad.
Then recently, the game changed once again. One day, life slapped me in the face, as it tends to do. Now that I’m in my early-40’s and she’s now in her late 60’s, I’ve realized that we’re not getting any younger, and enough time has passed to forgive and forget our differences. What is done is done. I’ve lost too many family members, filled with regret. I refuse to let this happen with my own mother.
To be honest….I just miss my mom. Pure and simple.
So 6 months ago, I took a chance and reached out to her through email. Much to amazement, she responded. Positively.
Since then, we’ve exchanged several emails, all on a high note. I’ve shared stories of my life, as well as pictures. And vice versa. This won’t be an easy process. There are decades of hurt to deal with. But I remain positive.
Yesterday, I sent her an email, wishing her a Happy Mother’s Day, with love from the kids and me. She responded, saying I made her day.
She smiled. I smiled. The healing has begun.
Filed under: Uncategorized