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 |
3 comments:
My mom has been gone almost 22 years and I still miss her. It helps to remember the love.
Jennifer
Oh, honey. It never gets easier. I will cry for my mama when I'm 90. I have self-medicated with food, too, and it is no tribute to my health-conscious, be-aware-of-your-feelings mom. She lived the majority of her life with debilitating scoliosis, which put her on a path of holistic health and wellness as a young woman. Even though she had 3 major curves in her spine, she never complained. She had a vitality that I am continually striving for. When I eat my greens and drink my water, THAT is when I honor her legacy. I always feel her nudging me to take care of myself. We are making a little altar for her this year (kinda like Dia de los Muertos in Texas where I'm from) - putting flowers, pictures and some of her favorite things on there. Sharing stories. Know that there are others sharing laughter and tears for their mothers who have earned their angel wings. Sending you hugs and strength. -L
Girl, I adore you - you are so in touch with your feelings - I just cried through your post - because I feel sad for you for not having your mom physically with you - and because I feel so in awe of your strength and your self intuition - is that a thing? Anyway - i'll be thinking of you this weekend and am so glad you have such a lovely place to focus your energy on Sunday. CD
Post a Comment