If yours is a sad Mother’s Day

If yours is a sad Mother’s Day, I am praying for you.

If you wanted to be a mother but could not.

If you are a mother whose baby or child has died.

If you became a mother under unfortunate circumstances and released your baby for adoption.

If you had an abortion and you regret it.

If you are a mother whose child has abandoned you, rejected your love, or otherwise walked away from you.

If you are a mother whose child is separated from you by distance, military service, imprisonment, or other circumstances beyond your control.

If your mother has died.

If your mother has rejected you or has harmed you.

If your mother is separated from you by forces beyond your control, such as distance, military service, or imprisonment.

If you had a surrogate mother-figure in your life who is now gone from you.

If you are the father of children who have lost their mother, and would do anything to give back what was taken from them.

If you are the spouse or friend of a woman who grieves on Mother’s Day and have no words of consolation.

If you look at all the other mothers or all the people celebrating their mothers and wonder what’s wrong with you.

If you do your best to lower your gaze and plow through the weeks leading up to Mother’s Day without noticing the flowers and the pink-toned greeting cards,  and if the only church service you skip every year is the Mother’s Day one because all the mothers are asked to stand, and if the very thought of Mother’s Day leaves you feeling like your soul has been scoured with sand paper and every thought stings with an exposed rawness…

Then I’m praying for you. I wish you blessings and peace, and may your heart find comfort. You are not alone.

Advertisements

About philangelus

Mom, freelance writer, novelist, angelphile, Catholic, know-it-all.
This entry was posted in family. Bookmark the permalink.

14 Responses to If yours is a sad Mother’s Day

  1. Spastic in Dallas says:

    i’m not a mother. and yet, this touched me deeply. thank you. as a woman, thank you.

  2. How nice – I generally hate holidays, because it reminds me of my hugely dysfunctional family. My mom drank heavily for most of my childhood, and the by the time she found sobriety, it was too late. I felt abandoned to her alcoholism,and again to her recovery, as I was not part of the process.
    I generally find ways to avoid Fathers day as well, as my dad was abusive in many ways. I have had a hard time as an adult coming to terms with the tremendous guilt I feel for not “forgiving”.
    So, I go through the motions in those aspects of my life. Other aspects of my life are rich with relationships that I have carved out, as a way to replace that which I feel I lost in childhood. Joy and sadness often intermingle so strongly together for me, some times I cannot separate them. So I tasted tears as I read your wishes, and felt the lump in my throat. But I also salute you,and say thank you!

    • Lane in PA says:

      You are not alone. I stuttered during my childhood and into my early twenties — I don’t recall how I overcame it, but maybe it was when the only job I could get was as a receptionist. Desperation is the mother of re-invention I guess. But to this day, when I get upset, especially at my therapy sessions, I begin to stutter again. Emotions seem to drive it.

      I followed your link over to your blogsite. You are a gifted writer, like Philangelus. Thank you for posting here today and sharing your thoughts. And Big Hugs to you!!!!!

      • Thanks for the wonderful reply – what a delight that was. Stuttering has always had such a tight grip on my life, and now finally, it is looser and more inviting. As are my emotions.

        I an happy you visited my blog – hopefully you’ll come back soon. Right now, I seem compelled to write, as if the words have a life of their own. It seems “this is my now”. Thanks for the words about my writing – I want to do something with it.

        Your response really meant something to me. I am sending you postive thoughts for a good day tomorrow!

  3. Lane in PA says:

    I didn’t want to be the first to comment but after waiting all afternoon for someone to chime in, I find I must “say it!”.

    Your post was profound.

    I wanted to cry after reading your thoughts. Cry for myself maybe? Or cry for my mother who chose evil over good?

    I have decided to pray for my mother and sister that they may see the error in their ways. I can survive the harm they have sent my way. For Mother’s Day, I pray for them to find a life that is not filled with hate and jealousy.

  4. Lane in PA says:

    Oh thank goodness, I’m not ‘first. 🙂

  5. Judy says:

    Thank you, for my baby sister who cannot have a child even though she desperately wants children, and for my coworker who’s baby died about 3 weeks ago shortly before she was supposed to be born. Thank you.

  6. philangelus says:

    Lane, Judy, Pam — I’m so sorry for your pain. Society sets such high expectations of motherhood. You three are all in my prayers today (and yesterday, too.) **hugs**

  7. Jason Block says:

    My mother was toxic to me…I haven’t been in contact with her since 11/14/91.

    Thank you.

  8. Adie says:

    Thank you. I wish there was more I could say but the only words I can find are thank you.

  9. Liz says:

    Thank you for this. It touched me in several areas.

    If you get a ton of hits, it’s because I am going to share it with some women I know it may touch.

  10. Adry says:

    Thank you so much for posting and reposting this. I can remember crying over it last year, too. I’ve forwarded it to many people. This holiday (like many others) can be so hard for so many. I usually do skip church on that day (also Father’s Day) because it’s too hard to be in the middle of all the sentimentality when you don’t share it. It helps tremendously to have someone acknowledge one’s pain.

    Thank you.

  11. philangelus says:

    Reblogged this on Seven angels, four kids, one family and commented:

    Posting this again because it’s been a few years. **hugs** everyone.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s