My first Mother’s Day as a mom was my first Mother’s Day without one. Though it’s been many years I’ve yet to shift to perceiving the day as mine. I often visit my own mom’s grave on Mother’s Day.
The day is rich for me in the traditional way in that I am blessed to be a mom to two amazing girls. With the storms of raising them largely in the review mirror (as my daughter used to say) every day is Mother’s Day because it’s a joy to have them in my life. And I have also had the honor of being mothered by a few special substitute moms including my sisters, my dear aunts and the recently deceased and extraordinary Marilyn Richards.
The world and social media make these ‘holidays’ so noisy that it’s growing more difficult to personally define my experience without turning off a significant amount of noise like 'la la la stop talking'.
Mother’s Day is another of those days. I like to treasure it quietly, grateful for the mothering I had, the mothering I get to do and the learned art of mothering my own self.
Mother or not, you are a creator. Celebrate that.