This Mother’s Day: Creating Space for Complicated Emotions

My first year balancing deep loss, gratitude, and joy

Photo by Ijaz Rafi on Unsplash

The Hallmark store was relatively empty except for one aisle: the Mother’s Day aisle. Shoppers of all ages jostled against one another in search of the perfect card for the mother in their lives. Some grabbed the first card they could find, then got out of there as soon as possible. Most shoppers looked stressed and a bit panicked, shaking their heads as they read card after card. No one looked like they were having a good time. Still, I was envious of them.

This was my first exposure to a holiday that will forever have mixed emotions for me. I am a mom to a wonderful adult daughter whom I love to pieces, respect, and enjoy. I am Mimi for two granddaughters who are full of life, love, and joy. They remind me how beautiful this life can be.

And, this year, for the first time, I am a bereaved mom who has lost an adult son. I am not looking forward to this Mother’s Day, a “first” without him.

Top that all off with the fact that five years ago, I lost my own mom, whom I miss daily.

It’s a lot.

Trust me, there are no cards in that Hallmark aisle that capture the complexities of these feelings.

Mother’s Day magnifies the tension between these seemingly disparate emotions. It hits differently when a parent loses a child of any age.

I feel myself bracing for it, anticipating a different kind of loss I have not yet felt. I don’t know what it will be like.

It is the unexpected triggers that throw me. Advertisements for Mother’s Day restaurant specials where everyone comes together to celebrate. Countless social media posts show fully intact families, smiling and caring for one another. Though I am happy for those families, there is no escaping the fact that seeing them hits in a way that is harder than usual.

The plan

So… what’s my job on this Hallmark holiday? It is quite simple.

To feel what I need to feel with gentleness and compassion. There is no hiding from whatever emotions emerge. Better to be open to what arises.

Creating a loose plan helps me on the daily so I will do the same on this holiday.

First, I will create four “containers” of time for what I feel as a mother: one for my daughter, one for my grandchildren, one for my deceased son, and one for my deceased mother. Having space and time to reflect on each of them honors what bubbles up inside me, giving emotions a time and place to land.

I’m learning that I don’t have to be afraid of the emotions I have when I create a safe space for them. Reflecting with gratitude on a loved one is all I need to do to generate that space.

Secondly, I will make sure I get some time outside. For me, quiet in nature restores me. I need to carve a good amount of time outside, allowing the wind and sun to feed my soul.

It helps me to touch the earth. I will plant flowers, thinking of each of the people in my life who have mothered me, or I have mothered.

Lastly, I will remind myself that love comes in many forms. My intention is to love those who are here and those who are not. Nothing prohibits that love.

This year, my plan is very different than previous years. I welcome all parts of me that need to be seen and heard. The parts that need to be celebrated. The parts that need to grieve. There will be space for all of them.

Come what may. I’m listening.