Ruminations on Mother's Day - A Non-knitting post.

Here in North America, today is Mother's Day.  It's not a day I look forward to.  At least not in recent history.

This is my second Mother's Day without my own Mum in my life.  A day when I feel sad, lonely, empty inside, and, more than any of all this, guilty.  Guilty for not being the daughter I should have been.  For taking for granted her unconditional love and forgiveness for my oh so many faults.  Today  I'm reminded of my failings as a daughter and as a mother and wife, too.  I feel guilty for being envious of the husbands and children who make a big deal out of spoiling their Mums every second Sunday in May.  Jealous of those who get more than breakfast and a lie-in after a week of reminding them that the dreaded Sunday is nigh.  And the guilt of realizing that once I was a mother myself, that Mum only got a call from me on the day, followed by a gift on an upcoming visit (a product of living 5hrs away, but still...), and that is probably just as bad.

So when everyone I know is posting "Happy Mother's Day" on Facebook or showing off their fancy brunches,  or neat little trinkets, I will make no post or share today. I simply change my Profile pic to one of me and my boys hours after my second, Alec was born.  It reminds me that I'm doing a decent job with them on a daily basis and it takes the pressure off the day.

So instead of focusing on May 10th this year, I'm looking at last week as Mum Week.  I dedicate myself to volunteering at my boys' school weekly, but for 2 weeks a year, once in the Fall and again in the Spring, always the week leading up to Mother's Day, I am at the school daily, organizing and running our Book Fair.  I'm also baking and potting plants for our annual Plant and Bake Sale. To me, this is my celebration of being a Mum more so than Mother's Day; it's what being a Mum means to me.  Giving of my time to my sons' school, especially knowing that they are proud to see me there, really makes me feel like a Mum - I wouldn't be there if I wasn't.  I'll admit that I love to hear the other boys and girls call me Alec's or Philip's Mom.  It gives my life importance and meaning.  Being their Mum is who I am, not just one day a year, but on a daily basis.

As I write this, I'm looking at this special photo.  It's not posed, it's natural.  And it's beautiful.  It's the moment when my capacity for love and dedication doubled.  Doubled in ways I would have never believed possible before having a family of my own.  A mother's unconditional love.  I have it for my boys (despite their efforts to drive me crazy with their constant bickering) and I truly hope and mostly believe that my Mum had for me and my sisters (despite all of our constant bickering.)  At least that gives me some solace on this sad Sunday in May.

Note:  My Mum gave me my love of creating crafty things and knitting, in which I find great solace.  I treasure my memories of my Mum coming on field trips with me (especially to the Toronto Zoo in Grade 3) and one of my 'jobs' at the school is to help with the Knitting Club.