This weekend Puppy painted a coffee mug for K that I need to mail off for Mother's Day weekend. (I am putting that in writing here hoping it will force me to get it done.) In the manner of most toddler art, it is a messy explosion of every paint color that was available to him. He is terribly excited about it.
Ms B and I talked about what she would most appreciate this year, because we want to honor her in a way that is sensitive to the intense grieving she's doing. She's dreading this weekend. She said that being acknowledged as a straight-out mother is too much for her right now; I think it highlights more of what she has lost than what she still has with Firefly. She liked the thought of Birthmother's Day, so I have a card for her.
I mostly feel the same about Mother's Day as I do about Valentine's Day. I enjoy the private celebrations letting the people I love know how awesome they are. I dislike the shallow, sexist, commercialized public commotion that typically only serves to make those on the "outside" feel bad. My time on the outside looking in on those holidays was recent enough that I well remember how awful it can be.
If only there were a way to celebrate our relationships without also dredging up people's regrets, losses or unfulfilled dreams. If you're still waiting and hoping and yearning; if you're not the one raising your child; if you have lost a child or a pregnancy; if the day reminds you of a broken relationship or someone you're missing, I wish for you peace in the present and hope for the future. You are no less valuable, no less worthy of respect and admiration than the people who will be noticed on Sunday. Happy Mother's Day to each of you.