While I don’t generally put a lot of stock in so-called “Hallmark holidays”, the hype around Mother’s Day does tend to permeate into one’s being. This is my third year as a mother. My daughter doesn’t understand – every day is Mother’s Day to her — but I do love the excuse to lie in bed, have coffee brought to me and read on a lazy Sunday morning!
However, it’s virtually impossible not to think about my own mother on this day. And so, I can’t help but wonder… where is she?
I’m not adopted, as you may assume. I know who my mom is. Although I lived with my father from age two, I had an ongoing relationship with my mom throughout my childhood and early twenties. And then, she just sort of disappeared. Sometime just before the turn of the century, she moved and didn’t forward her new address or phone number. A few months later, I moved as well.
Over the years I’ve occasionally looked online for her, without much success. Once or twice in the early days I did find her listed online but wasn’t in a place to make that call. I was hurt, although I didn’t want to admit it to myself for many years.
Over the last couple of days I’ve been extremely irritable and emotional. Short-tempered and impatient with my daughter. (Well, it could be that time of the month. That might have something to do with it.) However, it occurred to me yesterday… it might have just a little bit to do with the fact that yet another Mother’s Day has come around. And I still have no idea what happened to my mom.
What’s the point of this post? I’m not entirely sure, except… there’s a story inside me that needs to be written. I need to get it out there. I’m working on it bit by bit. This is one small step.
Happy Mother’s Day Mom, wherever you are.