Why I cried on Mother’s Day

cardI feel rather silly admitting this, but this morning when I woke up, I cried on Mother’s Day.

It really hit me how life has changed.

I cried because I am missing my dad, even more with each passing year. I missed the excitement of being a kid on a holiday, all excited to go see relatives that I thought would live forever. Then, I cried because I missed my grandmothers, great-grandmothers and my great-aunts. 

I cried because I missed my own brood being little. I miss their hand-made cards, proclaiming me as “The Best Mom Ever.” As exhausting as it was, I miss them being little and creating big messes as they ran through the house.

I cried for my friends and cousins and people I don’t even know who miss their mothers. I cried for the women who graciously gave babies up for adoption. I cried for the women who have tried to have children and can’t. I cried for the women who had miscarriages and the mothers whose babies are in intensive care. I cried for the mother’s who lost children in car accidents.

I cried for the mothers of service members who lost their children in war. I cried for the mothers who are deployed and miss being with their babies.

I cried for a former co-worker’s family, who are observing Mother’s Day without her, as she died of cancer a few days ago. I cried for the mothers who are bravely holding their child’s hand through illness.

I cried for the women whose daughters have been kidnapped and sold into slavery. I cried for the mothers of run-a-ways. I cried for the mothers of addicts.

Not all my tears were out of sadness.

I also cried for the new moms who are celebrating their first Mother’s Day.

I cried because I have four healthy children and two healthy grandchildren.

I cried because I can spend time with my mother and mother-in-law today.

I cried when I pictured my granddaughters serving my daughter her breakfast in bed. I cried remembering my first “kid-made” breakfast in bed – a barely-warm, frozen waffle floating in syrup paired with a bowl of sugar-coated cereal. I ate every delicious bite.

Am I a sappy, sentimental soul? You bet I am. I think I get worse with time, because life moves too fast.

When I look at what is going on in the world around me, I am truly humbled.

And then I cried, because I know just how incredibly blessed I am.

© – Lynne Cobb 2014

Are you sappy around holidays, too?

 

14 Replies to “Why I cried on Mother’s Day”

  1. I love that you felt for the rest of the world–what a lovely post.
    Hugs to you.
    httpsss://carolcassara.com/2014/05/calling-mom.html

  2. Mother’s Day is certainly a day of many memories and numerous emotions. I believe you explained this to a “T”. I really enjoyed reading your reasons of “Why I Cried on Mother’s Day”. I hope there were more tears of joy than of sadness. Wishing you a belated Happy Mother’s Day. Keep those great memories close to your heart and never be afraid to let your emotions come out.

  3. I cried too … sweet post, Lynne. Mother’s Day is harder for me now … this year I went to the nursing home to see my mom (who has dementia but still remembers me). We had a good but difficult visit. After that, I went to the florist and bought two more plants, one for my mother in law, and another for “Baka,” the Croatian grandmother of my son’s wife, who never forgets to include me in her family gatherings and has become a surrogate mother to me. After going to see my MIL, I went to Baka’s home for dinner on Mother’s Day evening — and ended up having a wonderful time with my “new” family — my son’s mother in law, and all the wonderful relatives in their family.

    I am learning that “mother energy” is where we find it — and that can be in many places.
    Happy Mother’s Day to you — you’re a great mom!

  4. Lynn,
    Lovely post…I read it a full times before venturing a response. I used to almost rally against “sap”, especially when I was a new mom with babies. I needed humor to provide some optimism for a hard day. But sap must come with time and the “long view”, because I find myself beginning to go there sometimes. A note on the mothers you list to cry for: I know some moms who were hit hard with post-partum depression. This thing can rob them of their joy, confidence, and more, and can be sneaky and misunderstood.
    Happy Mother’s Day to you!

  5. Beautiful piece. Helen Reddy’s “You and me against the world” played on Pandora today and I burst into tears. I was divorced when my daughter was four. The song was a sort of theme song for my daughter and me when she was growing up. Sweet memories.

    1. Thank you, Camille. And it is so true how music moves us…a simple song can take us back in time in seconds flat.

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