ahhhScotticher thank you. My mother died over 10 years ago but holidays in general and mother’s day in particular resonate with her absence. I am always amused by the popular pyscho babble about “closure”. When some one you love dies you never stop missing them. The wound scabs over and you move on but the hurt is always there.
I believe my mom watches down on me everday. Some days she cheers me on, some days she tells me to get my shit together and no doubt, some days she laughs like hell at some of my antics. I know she is there, but most days that doesn’t make the loss of her any better.
Tomorrow, I’ll celebrate Mother’s Day with my son and enjoy every minute of it, but deep in my heart, just as will be on Father’s Day next month, will be the painful throb of the pain that never goes away.
Happy Mother’s Day Mom! I have no doubt that you are organizing all the other moms up there to have a grandiose party tomorrow! Let Scotti’s mom know that she raised one hell of a daughter!
My mom died when I was little. Her funeral was on my 6th birthday. I wish that I really remembered her. I cuddle up with my own kids, and think about how terrifying it must have been for her, to realize that she might not live to see us grow up. I think about how I must have cuddled up with her. How much she must have loved me and my siblings.
I miss having a mom. I wish that she’d been there to talk with when I was pregnant, and having my own kids. I wish I could have called her for advice when my own kids got sick or hurt. Somedays, when life gets too hectic, I just yearn for a mommy of my own to comfort me.
I remember being jealous when we’d make things for Mother’s Day in school. All the other kids had mommies to make stuff for.
When we buried my dad, I started crying not for my dad, strangely enough, but for my mom, who he was being buried next to. My dad got a full life. He lived to see me get married and start my own family. He held his grandchildren. My mom? She didn’t even get to see my 6th birthday.
Sometimes I think about that when I’m planning my kids birthday parties. How horrible it would be to die before it happened. To buy presents for a party I won’t be there for. I know how little I remember my mother, and I worry that if I died now, my little girls wouldn’t remember me either.
Others have mentioned in-laws here, so may I talk about mine?
I never knew Mr. S’s mom – she died 5 years before we met, at age 69. She had a really hard life – raised 7 kids in poverty, cranky alcoholic husband, didn’t drive, so she was trapped in a lot of ways. We often talk about how nice it would be if she were still alive – we could treat her to all the activities that we enjoy and that Mr. S knows she would too: going to concerts, eating out, and just plain spoiling her to try to compensate for all her hard years. (Mr. S couldn’t afford to when he was single, and she died shortly after he got out of school.) And I would have loved to enact a tradition I read about once: Send your mother-in-law flowers on your spouse’s birthday. In my case, she raised up at least one fine boyo to be my darling hubby, and I wish I could thank her for that. I often do, in my mind. Thank you, Lelah, for the hubby I never thought I’d find.
I took roses to my own mother today and knocked her off her feet. (Dad, give her flowers? HAH!) Pink ones – they were her own mother’s favorite.
**
How true. I had a “pseudo-grandma” who used to always tell us about how her mother died when Grandma was 17. She said she still missed her every day, and included her in her daily prayers. Grandma died at age 88 still missing her mother.
Its almost over. The horrible banner ads and the billboards and commercials on tv and radio will be gone soon.
Just one more day.
Well it’s Mother’s Day in Australia.
I knew I shouldn’t have opened this thread, but knew at the same time that I would. Now I’ve gone and upset myself, when I was fine before. Crap.
My mum died 5 years ago, a month before my 17th birthday. She died while I was out of state, on a holiday with my friends. The last time I saw her was at the train station, in a wheel chair. The cancer, you see, had spread into, I dunno… her spine, I think. So she couldn’t walk and was in a lot of pain, but she was still alive as ever.
Funny - I still don’t know precisely how she died. Cancer, obviously, but I don’t know cancer “of what”? I saw her death certificate after the funeral, but I was too young and too numb to know what it said. I’d like to find out someday, for myself.
I never thought she would die.
Even today, I don’t know WHY I didn’t see it coming. It was obvious. She’d had various cancers for six years. Breast cancer when I was 10. More breast cancer when I was 11. Lumps in her back when I was in high school. Chemotherapy. Radiotherapy. She was in a fucking WHEELCHAIR when I left on the train.
But still, I didn’t know she was dying. It just didn’t occur to me.
It’s my biggest regret. Flitting off on a fabulous summer holiday while mum was dying. It was fucking obvious she was dying. (But I just didn’t KNOW.) My brother and my father were with her when she died in pain. But me, in blissful ignorance, I was living it up in another time zone.
I was in South Australia, actually. When they told me, I was around 8pm. I ran off into the trees and they let me go. I remember the night sky. We were in the country and there was no moon so the stars when unbearably bright. I wasn’t wearing any shoes and as I there stood crying my arse off, a small army of bush ants attacked my feet.
It’s Mother’s Day here.
No more Mom. For a very long time. [ no more Dad too, for that matter]
Thanks for this post Scotticher
Cheers Mom. I hope you are, where you wanted to be.
Your post reminded me of a PBS program a couple of years ago about the 1918 flu epidemic. They were interviewing people who had lived through that time. One man was about 6 years old when the epidemic started. He talked about losing his mother, how the worst that could happen had happened. He described how his mother was marvelous and that when she died the shine went out of everything. Eighty-some years old and he starts to cry for his mother who died so many years ago. I thought, my god I know just how you feel. My mom died over 7 years ago and the magic in life went with her. I’ve been pretending ever since.
I’m so sorry, LurkMeister. It is so good that you can remember the time you had with your mom instead of focusing on the fact that she died too soon. It is very hard to do that. And it is so wonderful that your wife had such a good relationship with your mom after losing her own mom so young.
Stinkum, I do the same kind of thing. I’m not nuts, and I KNOW my mom is gone. With my mind. I am not so sure that my heart ever got totally convinced she isn’t coming back, though. Sometimes the phone rings at work and my office assistant will say “Your mom’s on the phone…” and I will automatically reach for my phone…forgetting that it isn’t possible for her to have been talking to me.
** Spooky**, I am sure that somewhere your mom-in-law is smiling down on you and feeling that you just paid her the best compliment she could have ever wanted.
My darling CanadianSue…You are one of the best mom’s I know, and I am certain your mom is smiling down on you…today and EVERY day. I hope you have a wonderful Mother’s Day with your precious boy…your strength and loving courage are a legacy your mom can be very proud of. And I am sure she is. Thanks for the kind words, too!
lolagranola, your post breaks my heart and makes me ashamed of myself for sometimes feeling like I got cheated. I had my mom long into my adulthood…it was hard enough to deal with losing her then…I can’t imagine how much worse it would have been if I had lost her so young. You have my sincere sympathy, and I am so very glad that you have little ones of your own to cuddle.
Scarlett67 What a wonderful idea, to send your mother-in-law flowers on your husband’s birthday! It is such a shame that you never got to do that for your MIL, but I am sure she is happy that she raised such a wonderful man to be your husband. And that he was lucky enough to find you, too. And…your mom must be very proud of the daughter SHE raised, too. Yay for you for sending her roses!
** Narrad** I have thought about this a lot, because I knew my mom was terminal for six weeks before she died. I THOUGHT I had “worked” through a great deal of “stuff”…I thought I had pretty much prepared myself for her leaving me. I was wrong. I don’t really think we ever TRULY believe our parents are going to die and leave us. Even when we “know” they are going to go, some place deep inside of us is still convinced that they would NEVER leave us, and that someway, somehow, they will find a way to STAY. Because they love us…they are our PARENTS, and they have always been there for us, and they always WILL be.
And I was an adult when I had to deal with this. Please don’t be so hard on yourself…you were still essentially a child, and I think it is completely understandable that you didn’t REALLY think she was going to die. I am willing to bet that she understood that too, and she most likely wanted you to have your holiday. If she knew she didn’t have much time left then she also knew you would be going through an extremely difficult and painful thing in just a short time…she probably wanted you to have the opportunity to BE a child for at least a little while longer. (((( Narrad)))))
käse I am so sorry for your loss, for the loss of both of your parents. I, too, hope and pray that they are where they wanted to be.
** GKW ** You have my sincere sympathy. I hope that with time you will be able to find the magic again. I know how hard it is…I wish I could say something to help. I know I can’t, and I know that there is a part of me also that I may never find again. But I will keep trying, and I hope you will too.
Actually I delivered them in person (we were riding to a bridal shower together that day). Her jaw dropped as I set them on the table and began to remove the wrappings. Then she said, “Shame on you, Scarlett!” and gave me a hug. 
This winter my mom e-mailed us (she and my dad were traveling) that she had a funny mole "that looked like some pictures she’d seen) and was going to see a doctor. (It turned out to be a wart or something.) But my first thought was “Gee, I sure don’t want my mom to die before my dad does – she deserves a few years of peace.” Mr. S’s mom died first, so instead of spoiling her without his dad around, they had to deal with his dad for five more years, and he got even more unpleasant after becoming a widower.
But we like to think that Lelah is up there petting our dear departed pets, whom we know she would have loved, and – who knows? – perhaps accompanying us unannounced to those activities we would have liked to share with her.
SOB I MISS MY MOM!!! And {{{HUGS}}} to all…
I’d seen this thread title and had been kind of avoiding it…
Today after my workout and a pleasant time shopping in Bloor West Village in spite of the cold bleak weather, I was on my way home, and I came up out of the subway and followed the other people to the bus. Suddenly something snapped into focus, and I saw the people ahead of me as people, rather than as anonymous obstacles in the crush. My attention focused on the back of a silver-haired woman ahead of me, and I thought, that woman may well be a mother. Then I realised I had a lump in my stomach, and I realised how much I still miss my mom.
So I’ve got some things to say…
I spent much of the early evening calling people I know who are mothers, thanking them, and wishing them a happy Mother’s Day.
That was VERY beautiful, Sunspace. Your mom sounds like a wonderful person, and you were both very blest to have each other. Clearly, she loved you very much.
This made me cry, and is the most eloquent expression of love! What a beautiful and precious gift she gave you…
Thank you, Scotticher… HONK (blows nose) I was crying into my keyboard as I wrote it. I’ll spend the rest of my life living up to her gift, and I don’t mind a bit. ::weepy :)::
Sunspace, what an incredible tribute. I think your mom is looking down on you, very proudly.
Thank you, CanadianSue.