Mother's Day: As a Mom and Without my Mom

I didn’t think I would want to write anything about Mother’s Day as it’s such a bittersweet holiday for me. I feel so torn about it each year. Half of me wants to celebrate (especially now that I am a mom) and the other half of me wants to curl up into the fetal position and cry until it’s Monday morning.

This past Saturday I mentioned to both boys that the outside market that we love might have reopened. Conner was more excited to stay home with Joe and keep working on fixing up our swing set tree house with new windows, but Hudson was all about going to the market with me for an ice cream and a much-needed escape from our house. On our drive back home, I was thinking about how enjoyable it is to have this change of scenery (on day 50 of quarantine) and some one-on-one time with my younger son. Hudson is such a sweetheart and he reminds me a lot of how I was as a child; playful, fearless, full of wonder, and totally attached to his mommy! He is always wanting to hold my hand, sit on my lap or climb into my arms. I was the same exact way with my mom, and like her, I eat it up!

As our special time together was coming to an end and we turned onto our street, he asked me so innocently from the backseat, “Mommy, one day when I am a grownup, who will be my mom?”. I replied, “Hudson, I will always be your mom”. He then rephrased slightly and said, “no, when I am an adult, who will be my mom THEN?”, and again I told him, “I will be! Even when you are 100 years old, I will still be your mom”. He seemed to be pleased with this answer, and it helped me find some inspiration for today’s blog.

The belief that we are more than our minds and bodies is something that was shown to me very early on in life. There is a book called A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle where he says something like (I am paraphrasing here) “as human beings; the human part is form, the being part is formless”. I read this book years ago, it was one of Oprah’s selected book club books, and I never forgot about it because it resonated with me on such a deeper level. It captured exactly how I have felt since losing my mom when I was ten years old.

I remember immediately following my mom’s passing people started to refer to her in the past tense, “your mom was so loved”, “your mom would be so proud of you”, “your mom loved you and Lori so much”, etc. Statements like this were said with the best of intentions but they never sat well with me because to me, she IS all of these things forever. The fact that she is gone, passed away, in heaven, whatever you want to call it—she is still so loved and she is so proud and she still loves my sister and me like none other. I have no doubt about it.

If there is one thing I have learned over these past 27 years of being “motherless”, it’s that death only ends someone’s physical existence (their form), but the love you share and the relationship you have never dies. In my experience, the love and respect I have for my mom continues to grow and I find myself missing her in new ways with each passing year. Since I first found out I was pregnant with Conner, back in January of 2012, there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t find myself thinking about my mom, wishing so badly that I could have her here to help me care for my boys, to answer hundreds of questions about parenting or to tell me stories about raising my sister and me (the stories only your mom knows about you). I remember when I saw the first ultrasound of Conner and heard the sound of his racing heartbeat, I was hit with the profound realization that after so many years, I was about to have that mother-child bond again, except now I would be the mom.

Being a mom to my two boys makes me feel even more connected to my own mom; knowing that the love I hold for Conner and Hudson is the same type of crazy mom-love she has for Lori and me. I am connected to her in knowing that many of the things I am navigating as a mom of two little ones must resemble experiences she had while mothering Lori and me. While there are many things that I do as Conner and Hudson’s mom that are unique to me and our little family, I also love catching myself doing things that remind me of how my mom used to do them. The older I get the more I realize that I am very much my mother’s daughter and that although I only had her for the first decade of my life, she very much shaped me.

I can sometimes hear her in my voice when I say things like, “and we’re off like a herd of turtles”, and I can see her in my silly humor with my boys. She never took herself too seriously and that’s one of many things that made her so endearing. I have such vivid memories of her dancing around in our family room to “Walk Like an Egyptian”, while making a funny face where she would only show her front lower four teeth. I remember her reading Where the Wild Things Are to me and being so animated with it when she would read, “and the wild things roared their terrible roars, and gnashed their terrible teeth, and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws”. I remember how whenever she would lose her cool with Lori and me, she would say, “don’t make me angry”, in her scariest Hulk-like voice—which was never that scary! I remember as we got a bit older how amazed my sister and I were with her ability to seamlessly switch from yelling at us with steam practically coming out of her ears to answering a phone call in the most angelic voice seconds later. I for sure inherited this magical-mom-witchcraft from her.

I remember tender moments with her, when we would read my American Girl Doll books together. I loved pressing my ear up against her chest and listening to the vibration of her voice when she was reading. I remember how she used to tuck me into bed each night and how she loved to give me tons of butterfly kisses with her long lashes and nose-to-nose Ugga Muggas (Eskimo kisses) after we would say our prayers together. She was the mom that practically lived at my school and that all the other kids knew by name and took comfort in her care when their mom couldn’t be there. I remember how much she loved celebrating all of the holidays; from the decorating of our house (I think at one point we even had one of those fuzzy Christmas tree toilet seat covers), to the gift giving, and she always knew exactly what to give. She was the crafty mom, before there was Pinterest. She sewed us baby blankets, pillows, play clothes and even some of our Halloween costumes. She always made everything extra special because she put so much of her time and heart into every little thing she did for us.

Having an August birthday in Miami and being the one house on the block without a swimming pool she came up with the idea of throwing me a “wet and wild party”. It was so fun that we did it two years in a row at my request. We would invite my closest friends over, eat Carvel ice cream cake (to this day it’s my favorite), run around in the sprinklers, and cover ourselves from head to toe in shaving cream before going down the slip-in-slide. One year there was even a swamp that she and my dad created; it was a kiddie pool filled with gross slimy water (if I remember correctly) and all the kids would line up and take turns swinging on a rope that hung from a tree over the pit, trying not to fall in. These “little things” are the things I remember.

There was one year, probably when I was going into the third grade, that all of my girlfriends hosted fancy tea parties for their birthdays at a place that was called Carmen’s Victorian Potpourri. My favorite part wasn’t the dressing up and eating mini cucumber and tuna fish sandwiches that were cut into perfect triangles; it was the end of the party when we made our own stuffed animal bunny or bear and used hot glue guns to dress them in lacey Victorian looking dresses with a matching straw hat. It was adorable and I of course HAD to have a party just like it when August rolled around. My mom broke the news to me that we were going to have an at-home party again, I don’t remember the details of this but what I do remember is that it ended up being the best birthday I ever had. My closest friends came for a sleepover, we played outside on our hammock, ate popsicles, played with my dog Keesha (the Keeshond, and one of the best doggies ever) and at the end of the day my mom brought us all inside so that we could make our own fancy straw hats. She had gone to the store and bought all the supplies; even hot glue guns to attach fragrant flowers to our hats (just like the real in-store experience). I swear in that moment she was THE coolest mom ever.

There are so many little memories like these that I hold onto and treasure. I know that it doesn’t matter how many orange butterflies we spy that make us stop and think of her, or how many stories I tell my boys about their grandma Linda; nothing will make up for the missed moments and years we could have had together. But I also know that my children and my sister’s children inherently know their grandma Linda so well, because she lives on within us, and within my mom’s cousin Karen, and within their grandfather Pop, and so many others who knew her well and loved her dearly.  

Like being in quarantine, this Mother’s Day I am not going to focus on what I don’t have or what I can’t do or who I can’t physically be with. Instead I choose to focus on the now and I plan to show my gratitude and love to the people in my life who are here for me. I plan to honor my mom by putting down my phone, turning off my computer, and shutting out all the other noises. I choose to simply sit back and enjoy being on the receiving end of this holiday and I look forward to creating new memories with my children. This is exactly what my mom would want for me, and this life and how I live it is ultimately my gift back to her.

Thank you for everything mom. I will love you forever.