Wednesday, May 7, 2014

The hardest day of the year

I'm blaming it all on that effing Publix commercial.

You know the one. Pregnant mom making cookies with her daughter. Talking about the little girl's future sibling. "You should tell her secrets, like what a great soccer player you are. Or what a wonderful big sister you're going to be," the mom says. The little girl suddenly hops off the stool, presses her lips to mom's pregnant belly and whispers, "You're really gonna love mom."

Ugh. Cue the ugly crying. Seriously, last year, full on sobs after the first time I saw it. It kind of sneaks up on you with the sweet mom sentiment. Stupid Publix.

As most of you know, I lost my mom to melanoma in 2000. That's when I really started secluding myself and eating until I numbed the pain a little.

I miss her terribly. Every day. And there are some days that hurt just a little more.

Last week a dear friend who also lost her mom several years ago texted me and said she'd been really emotional.

"Sneaks up on you, doesn't it? Missing your mom, I mean."

Boy, does it. I usually think I'm doing well. And then I realize I've been emotional and try to pinpoint why. Oh. Her birthday. The anniversary of her death. Mother's Day.

It's hard to avoid Mother's Day. Stores are fighting for our business to "Celebrate Mom!" My TV, email inbox and car radio are inundated. Sometimes, it just starts to get to me.

It's weird. I sometimes feel like I don't still have a right to be sad after all these years. But I am, and I'm going to forgive myself for it.

However, after all that being in control, I've lost a little bit of it the past week. I can't let that happen. In my vulnerable state, sure, maybe it's OK to forgive myself a day or two of emotional eating--but not a week of it.

So in honor of my mom and in honor of me. I'm going to put down the "I'm so sad" french fries, and go on a "Yes, I miss my mom, but let's think of all the happy memories" walk. Plus, I'm going to have a glorious mother's day, because my best friend's baby boy is being baptized Sunday and his mom and dad have blessed me by asking me to be his godmother. How special is that?

Oh, and I've also started changing the channel or putting my fingers in my ears and "La la la"ing anytime that dumb commercial comes on.

Suck it, Publix.

Love to all of you who are missing your moms, too. It's never easy, is it?
Erika and mom, c. 1976