"Happy Mothers' Day". I cannot deny the joy at receiving breakfast in bed, cards and gifts from my lovely children, or the joy I will have in spending some time with my own mum today. For many, however, it isn't an easy day or it can even be a very painful one. It's a day when loved ones are notably absent, or the child you yearn for has not arrived, perhaps never will. For some, it's a time when they read the words on cards in the shops, full of what a mother "should be", struggling to see their own mothers, or even themselves. Such is the pressure of this commercialised day, and society's view of what a mother should be. No wonder so many of us battle with this constant feeling of not being good enough.
Just lately, I have been reflecting a lot, on the meaning of many things, but particularly as "Mothers' Day" arrives. My own mother has reached a stage where our roles are quite reversed, and she jokingly refers to me as her mother. My two children seem to be growing up so fast, and at every stage we meet new challenges. Like for many parents, they are the main focus of my life right now. Most of the time, they are a joy to mother and it feels like the best job in the world. Sometimes they astonish me with the wisdom that falls from their lips, their kindnesses too, and I feel amazed at how much they unwittingly teach me. But quite often, they drive me to complete distraction, like at the moment, with their new past time of what feels like constant bickering and complaining. At those times, I can feel less than motherly, and much more monsterly - certainly less than the perfect mother I (whether consciously or subconsciously) aspire to be. Especially when it's pointed out to me! Yes, thank you random man in the street who felt the need to say "You only have two children", on Friday evening, when I shouted "Just get out of the car, will you!" Herummph - and your point is?
These past few days I've been thinking about what this day is really all about. Its roots are in the Christian celebration day called Mothering Sunday, notably not referred to as Mothers' Day. To my mind, mothering is a type of love - a nurturing, unconditional love. The type of love which draws us instinctively to care for and protect the vulnerable, to aid their growth, their survival, their fulfilment of life. Mary mother of Jesus, is symbolic of this type of love within the Christian faith, but that does not mean that this type of love is exclusive to mothers or that mothers themselves are always capable of giving this type of love all the time. My occasional (cough) frustrated rants at my children are what make me human, and I'm sure, even Mary, had unmotherly moments.
If we could ditch the overcommercialised, high pressure focus, of this day and rather see it as a day simply to give thanks for motherly love, it could be, what it was intended to be - a celebration for us all. Mothering is to be celebrated. Not just humans, but most mammals survive because of the mothering instinct. In our language, giving birth makes you a mother, but, in practice, it doesn't make you mothering. That amazing instinct to give mothering love can be found in any of us, whether we are a woman, a man, or even still a child ourselves. It is a gift. A joy to give, as much as to receive.
This Mothering Sunday, I will be reflecting on and being thankful for all the mothering love I have received in my life, not just from my own mother, but from other family members, friends, teachers, doctors, nurses, etc; and all those who give mothering love to my children, when I am not there. I will seek to let go of the resentment of random (or not so random) people who feel the need to pass comment on my parenting skills - it was you being motherly, random man in the street, wasn't it? If I am having a particularly pious moment, or a large glass of wine, I might even feel thankful for unsolicited parenting advice. I will be most thankful for the gift of giving mothering love - whether to my own children, nieces, nephew, other children, my siblings, my mother... And I will also remember to forgive myself, for those unmotherly moments, when I am a perfectly imperfect mother. I hope you will all do the same.
Love to you all on Mothering Sunday
Annabel 💚
