A Mother's Day I'll Always Remember
Last year was the first year I received gifts from my daughters for Mother’s Day. For a week – I knew they were coming. Neither of them were able to contain the surprise gifts they were crafting at school. Early on Mother’s Day, they both came running into my bedroom, racing each other to present their respective gifts to me first.
In a New York Times article written by Karen Rinaldi, she speaks of the concept of motherhood and sacrifice. Referencing the brilliant but terrifying American dystopian series, "The Handmaid’s Tale", she writes: “In this scenario, the act of motherhood is subverted for the benefit of those in power, and they get away with it because of the concept of motherhood as sacrifice. When we cling to the idea of motherhood as sacrifice what we really sacrifice is our sense of self, as if it is the price we pay for having children.”
I bring this up because I know that I never saw my mother as “a mother”. She was mama; mom; ma. There was never a sense (or perhaps she never gave us that sense) that she was going above and beyond to be our mother – to bath us, clothe us, feed us, entertain us, love us… there was no imagined sacrifice. She was our mother and that is what mothers do.
Why Mother's Day is worth celebrating
“I don’t know how you do it,” my friends often remark.
And I think about how much I don’t think about “doing it” – I just do.
What a privilege to be able to feel so unconditionally loved – and to love without condition. And being able to celebrate that, and mark the occasion once a year – even if it’s in the tiniest way – is a heart explosion. Mother’s Day is an opportunity to allow your children to show you their love and appreciation and in turn, shower them with your appreciation of them.
Having said that, celebrating commercial holidays has never been a must for me as an adult.
When we were younger, we would wake up early to surprise my mother with breakfast or on the rare occasion, our father would take us all out to lunch to spoil and thank my mother. There would be a handmade card or flowers or mugs, bought at the last minute to put into a gift, what we felt in our hearts.
I’d forgotten how “necessary” it felt to show my mother how much I loved her, even if it was just on her birthday or Mother’s Day.
The importance of rituals
As a mother, I’ve come to realise how much little ones love rituals. When my eldest was younger and used to attend a school that was a 30-minute drive, Mondays was #NewMusicMondays where I would play music for her and tell her a little about the artist, show her the photo of the album…
When we moved away, that ritual fell away because now we don’t even get to enjoy a full song on the school run.
Two years later, she asked: “Can we start listening to new music again, mom?”
For me, playing new music for my little girls is an everyday thing. But for them, it’s important to mark even the everyday thing as a special occasion or ritual sometimes, much like Mother’s Day.
Last year, I received a pretty little hand-painted vase; the other was a card with a small packet of raisins attached to it, bearing the message “Thank you for raisin me”.
I laughed out loud and hugged each one of them tightly. We stayed in our pyjamas most of the day, watching Netflix, eating junk food and giggling together.
We didn’t do anything particularly special that Mother’s Day but it felt like an occasion had been marked, and I wondered what each of my daughters really thought of me – and how they see me as a mother. Hopefully they don’t see or feel anything I do for them as a sacrifice.
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