My Two Mother's Days

I have struggled with Mother's Day all my life. I lost my own mother when I was nine, many of you know. I don't really remember my father knowing what to do with that day anymore afterwards. We had no other family around to celebrate, and so it just kind of became a non-holiday in our house. I sometimes wish we had continued to make it about her - but maybe he had the right way of doing things. Maybe it was too hard for him, and so he changed it. And perhaps, that was just the better way for us, who knows.

Through my twenties a few times, I tried to celebrate this day again in her memory... it went disastrously. The first time I went to a little french bistro and tried to order a lovely single dessert to just take home with me. The ten minutes I was there turned out to be a festival of triggers I was not prepared for. Mothers and daughters and daughters and mothers... I was surrounded on all sides. I held it together just long enough to get my dessert and anxiously bolt out the door... upon which the tears began to flow instantly. I don't even recall what I did the second time I tried, likely I decided to block the traumatic event from my memory entirely though. Needless to say, after two attempts, I decided Mother's Day was no longer a day I was going to associate with my mother. It didn't work anymore.

In my late twenties, I met Drew. Having no parents myself, I quickly became part of his family and began instead celebrating his mother on this day. It was always fun but bittersweet for me. I usually could not get through the day of watching him and his siblings with their mom without breaking down. It was still wonderful to celebrate his mother, but also compounded my awareness of mine not being here.

In a very odd way... Drew's death changed this for the better. Now, I have a new job on this day... to honor his mother FOR him. It has brought new purpose and meaning to this day and allows me to not only honor his mother but also him. I hate to even admit his death has brought good things... but this one I cannot deny. His mother and I have a bond now that we would have never had if he hadn't died. We both wish he were here and that we didn't needed to have such a close bond, we are both eternally grateful.

Now, almost three years after his death, that is still how I am doing things. His mother, and his grandmother, are the center of this day for me. And my mom? She still has a Mother's Day... I just decided to move it to her Birthday instead. I figured out that this works better because it is not a holiday EVERYONE is celebrating... instead it is just OUR day. It makes it far easier and eliminates all the triggers so that I can just focus on my mom. I buy her a card and write something to her, buy myself some flowers, and a small piece of cake or dessert and some wine that I enjoy for her. I honor both her and myself on this day, as I think honoring me would bring her such joy. It's also a great excuse to eat some seriously bad-for-you cake.

I think when anyone we love dies, we are forced to make a decision - either adapt ourselves to the traditions or to adapt the traditions to ourselves. It sucks. But there it is. Sometimes, we might decide we don't even want to celebrate certain events or days anymore. And that's okay. We might decide to change it or even walk away from a holiday entirely for a few years and revisit it later when we are more healed and ready. Maybe not every holiday is like this, but there will be some.

The point is... We always have the permission to change things. To do it our way. To find a new way that works for us and our immediate family. Even if that means moving Mother's Day to February 26th like I did... or choosing not to celebrate Christmas at all until you are ready, like a good friend of mine did for several years after her husband died. Or assigning the job of hosting Thanksgiving to another member of the family, like my mother-in-law did after Drew died. We always have a choice to change it if it isn't working or if it feels like too much. No one will hate you. And if they do, that's their problem.

Now I celebrate my mother--in-law and all of the other mothers in my life on this day. It has taken many years and a very long and winding road through grief, but now I am able to see all mothers as an extension of my own mother's love... and so honoring them in fact is always honoring her, too.

Fitting Two Worlds Together

"It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good"

Don't we ALL wish it was that simple??
Since coming home from my trip to Hawaii a few weeks ago, things have been rough. I wrote a post here trying to glean some of the positives from everything as of late - but really what I think I need to talk about is how freaking scary even the good new things can be. I went on that trip just to go visit a friend and see a new place… I never imagined that the girl I was when I left would not be the same girl I was when I returned. But that is what has happened. Since coming home, it is as if I landed back in my reality and realized in a very real way that I am a different person. And part of me is SO NOT okay with that.

Logically yes, I am a different person than I was when my fiancé was alive. The day he died I became a different person… and every day since. But I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about the moment you look back and realize that you are REALLY a new person. When you actually see that you have new hobbies and new friends and a new career and life direction and BAM - it hits you suddenly. And the scary and heart wrenching part of that realization is the feeling that maybe, just maybe, if he and I were to meet now, or in a few more years from now, that we might not actually be the best match for each other. I don't even know how to entertain that thought in my brain… the same brain that knows this man to be the only one I ever wanted to spend my life with.

And I cannot even express to you HOW difficult it is to even TYPE those words publicly. My throat is tensing up with anxiety just to acknowledge this outwardly. Because he was and is my best friend… and I cannot tell you what a betrayal it feels like to say that. But there it is. This feeling that has been eating at me without my really being able to understand what was going on until today. His death has changed me. And in that, I have become this new person with new interests and new needs. I'm making new friends who never knew him - and for the first time in two years this doesn't feel so horrible. I'm going on trips for myself, and putting my all into my photography and building a business of my own as an artist and writer. I'm at the gym five days a week now (which is unheard of for me) and in the best shape of my life. My entire life is different from what it was when he was alive… and just after hitting the two-year mark it's as if I am realizing it somehow for the first time. And it almost comes as a shock, as if it snuck up on me. I really liked who I was when I was with him… but the person that he has helped create me to be since he died is someone I love SO much more deeply and fiercely. Because I've had to fight so hard for her.

It's all just so confusing. Because he is the reason for it all - he changed the entire course of my life in big ways. And so he is still so completely involved and a part of everything in that way. Yet that also means that his role in my life is different now. When we set out on this part of our journey, we began different paths, side by side, but not together as we were. Still I love him. Still I am in love with him. Still he is my best friend. And I still cry all the time because of how much I miss him. But somehow, in a way I cannot quite put into words, his role is different. New. Just as I am new and my role for him I suppose is different now too. And I don't really know how to fit all of this together. I've spent the past two years in hibernation, growing, changing, but not really making a lot of forward movement. But as that changes, as I do begin to lean into a new life, how does it all fit together? My answer right now is that I don't really know. I don't know what to do with all of it. I mean really, what DO you do with that? Other than share it with others - so you feel less crazy - so you feel more safe and okay with the fact that it's scary for you. That's all I know to do with it, so that's what I'm doing here. Thanks for listening.