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I Hate Mother's Day
Its been over 27 years coming this missive or letter, maybe poem ? I HATE Mother’s day !! with a passion ... I've said it ... The sheer relief is palpitating a load of my mind, and body, slithers away peacefully knowingly, just to see those words in writing, Actually I find the words out of reach to express my utter relief, just now Don’t get me wrong, It’s not that I don’t love or want to celebrate my mother or lack feeling for her Oh ! it’s completely the opposite Not only does it remind me what I miss (her) but it also reminds me, what, what I always felt I lacked (as a mother I mean), and I've felt it for many years, since my first My mother and hers and my father and his set the standards so high, so very high that I thought hey, I'm smart ? I can be a mother a better mother like no other, like no other indeed ! I remember receiving gifts being overwhelmed with joy that first mother’s day I was graced with that love and all those crazy Motherly emotions, we mothers feel I felt gratitude for all that and so much more But then doubt crawled into mind setting up house, making a home that would last the whole lifetime of my eldest son, until these past days filled with agony, measured no longer in minutes or hours but in each moment of pain I felt I hadn’t been there enough I knew, or thought I knew I hadn't loved them 'enough' or soothed their pains or made their bed 'enough', Jesus, the shit I poured down my own back I lack many things, though I had wisp of a dream that hope would win, I'd be a mother, like my own but that wasn't to be life changed like a hurricane I lived one life and then another took its place no better or worse, just different my children never went without, then they did for more years than the former, I felt the pain each time I said 'no' but always tried to rob Peter paying Paul his due and went without, yes even food then slowly as times sands swiftly drew threw the hourglass they all left, got jobs, found love and made lives without me, I never get to see them much some more than others over time it’s taken its toll I thought lack of contact spoke about the mother I was how much I was loved I was right, it was saying something just not what I thought I have saved two of mine from the very hands of death, I have went without sleep for more reasons than I care to list I have answered the phone in the dead of night spoken about everything and nothing I missed a call to bail a man out but alas it was the one night I have known the hands of sleep all night, for a very long time so I forgive myself, even if he doesn't I have slaved and went without sleep Christmas night, just to see their little faces in the morning I always tried my best hoping and praying, yes praying !, (to that one in the second row Saying, "I always knew she prayed") Some will take a shot at a guess at why I write this just now this close to a day that should be celebrated for all mothers the good ones and the bad It’s because even a bad mother can love with every fiber of her beautiful soul, even a bad mother can be a good mother on those days that end with a child’s peace As my days trickle to hours and minutes I know mothers never ever stop being mothers yes even the bad ones, can love forever with passion that burns from her womb There is a feeling that only a mother can feel and I don’t mean just birth mothers, I mean all mothers Biological or not they all feel it in their hearts and minds in their bodies and souls even the children she gave homes to (but not life), in doing so is giving a life to without knowing first breath, and yet still carry with them a love they will always bare then as times hand lays his head and says enough, she is gone it is now on this Mother’s Day I say, I hate mother’s day even more because I am a motherless child wishing for just a few moments more so I could tell my mother she was the best mother, like no other, Because she was mine --- Postscript:- there’s a lesson here for you children those lucky enough to still have their mother give her a call and just say I love you, then hang up !! let her think what a "cray cray crazy" child she has but wouldn’t change for anything even life and I bet she smiles ... eventually time will never stand for no man or woman, So love your mother and tell her, once a week ? maybe? To my kindred souls who have felt the loss and the stinging cut of the wounds that drip with grief from their loss today I hate Mother’s day too ...... but there's a lasting but here, I forgive my beautiful soul, I gave 'enough', it was all I had ...
Copyright © 2024 Jayne Eggins. All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things