This Mother's Day is the first since my mother died last June, and for the past few weeks my emotions have been a combustible cocktail of sorrow, loss, and rage. The truth is, this has never been my favorite holiday, given that my relationship with my mother was a tangled and troubled one. Somewhere deep down, I think I thought it would be a relief not to have to "celebrate" it anymore.
I wasn't expecting the emotional hit I've taken over the past few weeks, as those around me prepare to acknowledge and honor the generations of women that hold their families together. When murmurs arise about choosing the perfect gift or exchanging recipes for brunch, I have to leave the room. I honestly don't know if I'll lose my temper or burst into tears, and I don't want to find out. So this goes out to all of you for whom Mother's Day brings painful feelings of sorrow, loss, anger, and guilt. Those are real feelings too.
In the past, in our family, Mother's Day was more a duty and responsibility than it was a pleasure. Over the years, our tradition was to gather the family at a local restaurant a few blocks from my mom's house, then do our best to make light conversation as we all tried not to notice mom's bleary eyes, her shaking hands, her awkward silences as she struggled to follow the conversation through a haze of hangover and memory loss. My mother was an alcoholic all her adult life, and despite a few half-hearted stabs at rehab, it was alcoholism that killed her. It wasn't a pretty story, it wasn't a pretty life, and it wasn't a pretty death. So Mother's Day, which for some is a painful but moving day of remembrance, isn't that either, at least not yet.
Here's the thing: I may not be able to say that my mom was a "good" mom -- her alcoholism and other demons prevented her from being many of the things she wanted to be, and I wanted her to be -- but she did the best she could. She tried really, really hard. Toward the end of her life, when I saw her almost daily, I was able, slowly and painfully, to move toward an understanding and acceptance of what she'd tried to achieve.
My mom wanted desperately to be a good mother. Raising us four girls was certainly her proudest achievement, something she valued far above her multiple degrees and early but impressive career. And if she taught me one thing, it was to value being a good mom, too.
In raising my own daughters, I've come to understand so much more about what it takes to be a mother, and all the things that can get in the way, despite our best intentions. Things don't always turn out the way we thought they would, the way we wanted them to. That could be the inscription on my mom's headstone, had she been buried, and who knows, it could be the inscription on mine, too. "Do as I say, not as I do," my mom used to say with a twinkle in her eye, and I think I can honestly say I've lived up to that. Somehow I "got" the values she was trying to show me, even as she tried and failed to live up to them herself. Will my legacy be that I was a "good" mother? I don't know yet; I don't even think my girls have the answer to that yet. But I've sure as hell tried.
Another tradition that developed over the years in my own house was a rushed "breakfast in bed," (usually consisting of scalding tea and burnt toast) before we zoomed out the door to pick up mom. This year there's no need to rush; for the first time we can linger. Maybe there will be time for the tea to cool, to make the toast properly. Perhaps my girls will even take me out to brunch. It'll be something new and different, a chance for us to focus on our relationship for a change. But it won't be a celebration. At least not this year.
Thank you Melanie for sharing your journey of Mother's Days with your family. All of us have 'histories' with our families. Some good, some not so good. My parents were not alcoholics. In fact, although they had a cocktail before dinner, and occasionally went to parties and drank, they never appeared impaired. All of us kids have the tendency to drink too much. I stopped drinking 7 years ago after I realized it was a problem. One brother quit about 25 years ago, but now has an occasional glass of beer. The other two - they make their own choices. The only difficulty that I had with Mom is that I believe by the time she had me (#4 of 4), she was tired. Maybe I spent too much time with she and Dad trying to show her I was a 'good' girl. Who knows. This is my second Mother's Day without her. I still miss her greatly, but spent the day mostly alone, since I have no kids of my own. Kind of a tough day.
It is second Mother's Day without my Mom. Reading the other comments my heart goes out to you all. Some are mirrors of my own experiences. Some days I don't think I will ever get past the hurting. Thank God for own kids and precious grand kids. There are slivers of peace and hope. Can't change the past. Each day we get another chance to work on what others will remember about us. May God guide you all and myself....
Thank you Melanie for being willing to share your feelings and hopefully give encouragement to others. I hope your Mother's Day since then have been a happy celebration with your own daughters.
After your mother's passed (mine did last August), and you have no children to call you Mother - what is there to celebrate? Each day is a celebration of my husband and I having each other.
Melanie: Your words were heartfelt and conveyed your confusing relationship with your mom so well. Remember that you were a wonderful daughter to her and your acceptance of her was what blessed her. Enjoy mother's day with your own daughters and look forward to many more.
I don't look forward to Mother's Day and haven't for over 6 years. My mother is alive. My son, now age 32, removed me from his life over 6 years ago. No reason given. No argument, no harsh words, nothing happened. He just quit accepting my calls, e-mails and letters in the mail. He returned money I sent. He quit taking his depression medication. He moved from Indiana to Colorado. I didn't find this out until he was in Colorado for over a year. I quit celebrating Mother's Day 3 years ago. God's Blessings to everyone.
My mom died of vascular dementia 12/21/10, I am not looking forward to "the" day. All the advertisements, etc, just reduce me to tears. Mother's Day is definitely a day of grieving for me now. While my mom was not an alcoholic, my dad was, he died in 1985 at the early age of 59. I can understand exactly what Melanie addresses, a realtionship with an alcoholic parent is very strained. My way of explaining it is I loved my dad, but I really hated the disease of alcoholism and how it made him behave. I think part of it was PTSD from being active duty WWII. ( they did not know about this back then) My dad had such a big heart and full of love, but when the alcohol took over, he was a stranger, a horrible stranger. Having a parent who suffered from alcoholism, leaves you feeling cheated. But, on the other hand, taking care of my mom and watching her decline with the dementia, and being with her as she died, and she is no longer here.....I remain feeling cheated. It is all so sad.
Very heartfelt and honest article. Thank you.
Thanks everyone for your lovely comments. It means a lot to hear that my story has resonance for others.
Thank you for telling your story. Not enough is written when it comes to the very troubled relationships some of us have with parents. So many painful feelings when parents become elderly because the rage is there and yet we have to show respect and compassion for them in this stage of their life. How to reconcile all of this, I do not know. Thanks again for sharing your pain.
Thank you for giving an eloquent, authentic voice to something so complicated and overwhelming. And I hope you had a fabulous Mother's Day with your daughters.
Very brave, Melanie, and moving. I'm sure many others can relate to how you feel. I, too, hope your day with the girls was all you wished for.
Probably the most moving Mother's Day piece I've ever read. I hope your day with your daughters was good both for you and for them.
Hi Melanie, My mom died of the same thing and I'm pretty sure I know how you feel. This is my 3rd mother's day without having to buy some useless gift she won't even remember I gave her. It is a relief but not a celebration. I know you are doing a great job of being an awesome mother, so it's your turn to just be celebrated. Enjoy the day.