Each day brings me closer to the dreaded ‘Mothering Sunday’. Yes I am a mother, but I don’t have a mother any more.
I used to get so much pleasure with mum, especially pre AD, on the run up to Mothering Sunday. I used to book somewhere really nice for lunch, you know, one of those nice restaurants that give a little posy or small gift to the ‘mums’. I always kept it a secret where we were going until the day. We would have so much fun in the weeks before buying something new to wear, mum used to call it our ‘mothers together day out shopping’. She always used to giggle we were ‘mothers together’, I think it just ticked her pink that I am a mum too. Even though in latter years the shopping trips were out of the question, I still had great fun organising something special, and mum loved it all, her special ‘Mothering Sunday’.
I am struggling to put into words how desperate I feel this year. I thought the days for tears were in the past, but the tears are flowing so easily, it’s stupid I know, its just another day.
Something else has dawned on me loud and clear. Of course because it was Mothering Sunday and I organised something special for my mum, by default this mum had something special too by way of sharing and enjoying the same day. Has anything been arranged for this mum this year, no, this mum who is spending her first mother’s day without her mum and is heart broken. I know I am throwing the toys out of the pram. All completely unreasonable, I know my ‘child’ is working on Sunday, I just feel so bloody miserable.
So my plans for Mothering Sunday, taking a bouquet of flowers to the church yard, and having a flipping good cry, feeling desperate I don’t have my mum, and feeling very sorry for myself. Just when I think Im doing just fine, something else comes along to bite me on the bum! Irrational and unreasonable, yes, guilty as charged.
As usual, to my TP friends, thanks for listening.
I used to get so much pleasure with mum, especially pre AD, on the run up to Mothering Sunday. I used to book somewhere really nice for lunch, you know, one of those nice restaurants that give a little posy or small gift to the ‘mums’. I always kept it a secret where we were going until the day. We would have so much fun in the weeks before buying something new to wear, mum used to call it our ‘mothers together day out shopping’. She always used to giggle we were ‘mothers together’, I think it just ticked her pink that I am a mum too. Even though in latter years the shopping trips were out of the question, I still had great fun organising something special, and mum loved it all, her special ‘Mothering Sunday’.
I am struggling to put into words how desperate I feel this year. I thought the days for tears were in the past, but the tears are flowing so easily, it’s stupid I know, its just another day.
Something else has dawned on me loud and clear. Of course because it was Mothering Sunday and I organised something special for my mum, by default this mum had something special too by way of sharing and enjoying the same day. Has anything been arranged for this mum this year, no, this mum who is spending her first mother’s day without her mum and is heart broken. I know I am throwing the toys out of the pram. All completely unreasonable, I know my ‘child’ is working on Sunday, I just feel so bloody miserable.
So my plans for Mothering Sunday, taking a bouquet of flowers to the church yard, and having a flipping good cry, feeling desperate I don’t have my mum, and feeling very sorry for myself. Just when I think Im doing just fine, something else comes along to bite me on the bum! Irrational and unreasonable, yes, guilty as charged.
As usual, to my TP friends, thanks for listening.
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