I carved out the time to say something today because there are, inevitably, readers out there who need some lifting. There are no easy ways to cope with this day, so the best I can offer is this post from Two Weeks Wait and a second helping of my Mother’s Day post from two years ago, when I was raw and bleeding from the loss of my son three weeks prior.
From my new vantage point, this day feels strange. I still regard it with a distrusting side-eye after so many years of being lashed and bludgeoned by family brunches and Facebook dedications to everyone but me. So many people have reached out to me with “Welcome to the club!” undertones, and it only seems to drive home how exclusionary and fabricated this holiday has always felt. I debated whether to post anything on Facebook. Certainly I would not contribute to the bitter onslaught. I ultimately settled on the following:
If you are hurting today, I hope you will take stock of your worth and all the ways you mother, even if you spend it nurturing your garden, as I often have on this “stabby” and challenging day. Unapologetically take the liberties you need to survive it, and tomorrow will just be another Monday. Hang in there, sister-friends.