I’ve been writing this blog post in my head for years, trying to figure out how to say exactly what’s been on my heart.
In the past, when I’ve expressed sadness or sorrow over Mother’s Day, I seem to get one of two responses:
- You’re ruining Mother’s Day for all the mothers out there!
- But you’re a spiritual mom!
So before anyone gets the wrong idea, it is most definitely not my goal to ruin anyone’s Mother’s Day. I hope and pray that all the moms out there feel loved and appreciated. They certainly deserve it. I, quite literally, have no idea how you do all the things you do.
So to all the moms out there . . . I see you. I stand in admiration of you.
I’m purposely using the phrase “I see you” because the older I get, the more I think this is at the heart of so many of our desires (and our pain). All of us, whether adult or child, just want to be seen. We want to know that our existence matters and that our joys, our struggles, our triumphs, and our pains are all acknowledged.
This brings me to the point of this post . . . Mother’s Day can be a painful day for many reasons (grieving the loss of one’s own mother, miscarriages, infertility, lack of a marriage partner . . . to name a few), and the people who are experiencing pain or grief on this day don’t want it swept under the rug. They want it to be acknowledged.
For example, I’m sure there are moms out there who will be celebrating Mother’s Day with their kids. At the same time, perhaps they lost their own mother–maybe recently, maybe years ago. They can both celebrate the day but be sad that they won’t spend the day with their own mom. It would not be fair to say to a woman who is grieving the loss of her mother, “But at least you get to celebrate with your own kids!” She deserves to have her grief acknowledged, not swept under the rug.
Likewise, it is not fair to say to a woman who does not have children of her own and is grieving that loss, “But you’re a spiritual mother!”
Listen, I love being a spiritual mom. I cherish my role as an aunt (13x over, thank you very much) and a godmother (5x), and a teacher (about 2,000x over at this point!). However, none of those spiritual motherhood roles negate the fact that I grew up wanting to become a stay-at-home mom!
Seriously, I did not expect to be a career teacher. I thought I would teach for a few years, then get married and stay at home with the large gaggle of kids I assumed my husband and I would have (possibly writing fantastic children’s books while the kids napped), and then maybe head back to teaching after all the kids were school age (I figured we’d need my salary to pay for the kids’ Catholic school tuition).
So when I hit my thirties and there was no husband, much less children, Mother’s Day started getting complicated. Why was God holding out on sending me a husband? How we were supposed to have that large family if He didn’t send me a spouse?
Then my mom passed, and Mother’s Day became doubly difficult.
Very kind, well-meaning people have greeted me on Mother’s Day asking, “Do you have kids?” and when I say, “No,” they respond, “Well, I won’t wish you a happy Mother’s Day then. Are you at least going to spend the day with your mom?”
Ouch.
And double ouch.
Here’s a canister of salt. Would you like to pour it into my open wound?
Some might think, “But I mention spiritual motherhood to make it LESS painful?”
To which I respond . . . I know that you mean well, but . . . Stop. Just please stop. Having someone mention spiritual motherhood to me on Mother’s Day has never ever consoled me. It would be like trying to console a woman who had two children but lost one by saying to her, “Don’t grieve over your one child who died. At least, you’ve got the other one!”
This is not to say that we shouldn’t ever talk about spiritual motherhood. We should! It is a good and beautiful thing. However, please don’t use it to console a woman without kids on Mother’s Day. It’s just going to backfire on you. Why? Because we want to be SEEN. We want our grieving to be acknowledged.
So what should you say to a woman on Mother’s Day?
If you know she is a mom, say, “Happy Mother’s Day.”
If you know she is a mom, but you know she might also be grieving the loss of her own mom, be sensitive to the fact. You can still wish her a happy Mother’s Day, but if she expresses sadness, don’t try to sweep it under the rug. See her for that sadness.
If you know she is NOT a mom, wish her a happy Sunday. If she appears to be struggling, it is 100% okay to acknowledge that suffering. Grief is good and holy work. Tell her you know today might be a hard day for her. And then, just listen. You don’t have to say much. Just listening and being with her can be so healing.
If she’s a stranger and you don’t know if she is a mom, for heaven’s sake don’t assume anything. Don’t open a can of worms. Just wish her a happy Sunday. You can’t wrong with that. 🙂
So to all my friends out there, I wish you a happy Sunday!
And if Mother’s Day is hard for you (for whatever reason), I see you. I acknowledge your pain. I’ll be holding you in prayer.
