Mother’s Day is always tough for me. I have a very difficult time remembering what Mother’s Days with my own mother were like. I know that we always had a barbecue at my aunt and uncle’s house and that, for most of those celebrations, I took way too much food and only ate a fraction of it. When my mouth was entirely filled with a mish-mash of hamburger, coleslaw and potato salad, making it impossible to chew, I would look at my mother helplessly. She in turn would grab a napkin, and as discreetly as possible, hold it for me while I spit food enough for a small village into it.
The evolution of my mom’s looks are also clearly visible to me. Her dark-brown hair was longer and relatively straight when I was young, shorter when I was in middle school and then long and extremely wavy, with some gray, after her first two chemotherapy regimens when I encouraged her to grow out her flow. It was unimportant how she wore her hair, though, because she always exuded the same warmth and light-hearted spirit whether she was feeling 100 percent or gritting her teeth and just hanging on.
Eventually her wavy hair was gone, replaced by colorful scarves, but she was still the same mom. This is now the seventh Mother’s Day without my mom and they haven’t gotten any easier. However, instead of simply being down-in-the-dumps I try to focus on how much my mom meant to me, every happy moment we shared and every obstacle we overcame together.
Whether you’re still lucky enough to have your mom or have to just think about happy memories, enjoy your Mother’s Day and remember/appreciate your mom and everything you shared.
