Mother’s Day and Me

FB_IMG_1462893412467 I’m glad it’s over.  Mother’s Day is hard for me. It is one of those days when I can be in a room full of people and feel more alone than ever. So I tend to stay away for a while, not for long, but for a while. However I appreciate the people who check in, they are very few, but I see them and appreciate them.

On tough days I have to force myself to not put on a pleasant face and a fake smile. It’s easy for me to pretend that I’m not dying inside. It’s easy for me to check in with you when you never check with me, like ever. I am making decisions to not always be there for others to the point where they never ask how I’m doing or even send a Happy Mother’s Day text.

I appreciate the people who ask how I am, who know that I am struggling on celebratory days. Those people are few, but they are sacred to me. Because the reality is that it’s terrible that I don’t have my mother, and that the mother that I had wasn’t always a mother, that mother figures are absent, that I am mother to a son who only has his mother, that my son does not have a grandmother, that my son with current restrictions in speech and development only has his mother to speak and care for him. …. yeah Mother’s Day is hard.

But I liken myself to David who exposed his pain and his toil, and he called a spade a spade… and then he came to himself, and decided to encourage himself and praised God anyway. Like Kendrick said, we goin be alright, and God is going to get the glory. And I cannot wait to share my table of plenty with those who were present when all I had to offer was myself.

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