No Mothers Here Today or Any Day
Feck. Is it Easter yet???
Today here in the UK and maybe elsewhere in the Commonwealth, it is Mothering Sunday.
It has been hell as the shops, newspapers, magazines, TV adverts, everything has been totally in my face for weeks now. Throw in that it would have been my Mum's 62nd birthday a few weeks ago and you have the perfect storm of grief and anger and sorrow.
I guess that it is the natural order that when your Mum dies, you should be preoccupied with your own children to take your mind off it, hmm? Infertility...the gift that keeps on giving you shit.
Deep breaths. One foot in front of another. Tomorrow all the cards and gifts will be gone from the shops and there will be no more sobbing into the shopping trolley at the sight of them. I know it will get easier and it is just the timing and probably hormonal but can't a broken woman get a break??
I did the same today as I did on Mum's birthday. I cooked and I gardened and I thought of her and how pleased she would be to see me doing both of those, always her favourite tasks.
I talked to the photo of us taken together en-route to Skye and told her how much I missed her. That daffodils always remind me of her birthday and how she always told us that she loved to eat daffodil heads when she was young. Never the stalks cos they were poisonous, just the yellow petals, like hopeful sunshine in her mouth.
Isn't it funny the things you remember?
posted by Pamplemousse @ 7:25 PM
7 Comments:
It's so grossly unfair that you have to be assaulted by all of this, especially so closely after her birthday.
Thinking of you so much and sending all my love. And smiling thinking of "hopeful sunshine in her mouth". That's such a lovely thought. I wish you much hopeful sunshine.
Ugh, I'm sorry PM. I wish that it wasn't so...that you could have either the comfort of your mother or your children. :(
Oh honey - I am so sorry for the shit time. Thank you for sharing a bit of her sunshine with us. I have a feeling I'll be thinking of her when my daffodils come up this spring.
xo,
T
Oh, Miss P, I'm so sorry. I know how those days are. I usually go camping on Mother's Day weekend here so I can have my own media blackout.
Such sweet memories though.
zhl
Glad the daffodils were out so that you had a bit of her with you. We saw a bunch of children picking daffodils in our local park yesterday and I was so cross that they weren't leaving them for others to enjoy.
I'm glad you've got these memories of your mum with you, although I can't imagine the pain of her not being here for these 2 occasions, not to mention the additional pain of infertility. You are doing an incredible job at keeping on going through this.
Mother's day is such a circus.
A sugary sweet commercial circus, yuck.
What a lovely story attached to daffodils. Happy memories.
I am glad that you found such a beautiful way to remember . . . and bothered that *they* make it so hard to forget.
There is far too much commercial and media hype where there ought to be something meaningful at least.
Post a Comment
<< Home