I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I hate mothers day. I have nothing against motherhood, or mothers in general. Heck, I’m a mother and some of my best friends are mothers. But I do resent, in the same way as I resent Valentines day or Secretaries day, anyone telling me when and where I should be grateful for the people in my life. If my husband deserves a box of chocolates, whether it’s February 14th or October 3rd, he’s gonna get one.
Do unto others as you would have done unto yourself. Well if this is the motto to live by, then I’ve done it every mothers day of the past 25 years. Nothing. I would be embarassed if my son ever bought me so much as a card for mothers day, and so therefore I’ve never thought to do anything for my own.
But this year, the year that myself and my mum have been taking steps to understand each other better, I’ve been having thoughts. Ok, I don’t agree with the concept or implementation of this faux holiday. I think it’s fake, impersonal, forced and insincere, and I think its pretty much meaningless. But it’s not called Daughters day, and so it really isnt about what I want. What I want, (by the by) is to ignore the whole thing and roll my eyes whenever I hear it mentioned. Not only is that what I want, but it’s what I’ve always done. And yet I know that she would love me to mention it or do something out the ordinary. She’s even said as much from time to time. And then I spend my time complaining that she doesnt ever think about me.
So this year, I’m thinking again. I still hope my son never even mentions this day to me, let alone acts upon it, and I would be upset if he did. But that’s because I’m his mother. And I suppose it makes sense to say that as upset as I might be about it being celebrated at some point in my future, the same emotion might be felt by my own mum at itnot being celebrated.
There are many things that the two of us disagree on, and basically have to agree to be polar opposites about. We discuss, argue, attack and debate each other about so many aspects of our very different lives and feelings on a plethora of topics. This does not have to be one of them.
So I’ve bought the flowers, I’ve signed the card, and I’ll be giving them with a smile. The smile at least, I know has meaning. And I hope to get one more meaningful than ever back in return.