Mother’s Day, one of the best days in Mom’s year. Finally, appreciated! Special! Those daily efforts noticed at last! We can live on all that one day of attention for the next 364.
These are the glory days for us to enjoy homemade gifts made at daycare or a freely given hug from a teen. I would argue that Mother’s Day is even better than a birthday for several reasons, not the least of which is that there is no cause to mention growing older. We get gifts and there is no burden of reciprocity. All the attention and adoration is directed toward us. And for those keeping score, Mother’s Day just seems bigger than Father’s Day, maybe because by then school is out and parental power is thus greatly diminished.
It’s easy while the kids are living with us and we can drop hints, circle the date on the refrigerator calendar or declare Mother’s Day our no-cook day. But does anyone else wonder, deep down in her heart of hearts, whether the day will have the same potency when the kids have moved out and have their own bank accounts? Will they remember to call or send a card, or perhaps coordinate a sibling-sponsored floral bouquet? Will we hang out together and reminisce about these years that are unfolding now? Will they be coming to visit us because they truly want our company or because they would feel guilty otherwise?
A childless friend once told me the problem with kids is that they’ll never love you as much as you love them. At the time I wondered how he could know that, and yet now I’m sure he’s right.
Just in case the kids one day move far away or grow preoccupied with careers and obligations (despite any of my dire warnings to the contrary), I say we all take this time to bask in the warmth of tempura paint hand prints and Instagram messages with #thanksmom. Let’s enjoy our holiday because it may pull us through the late curfews and busy days – theirs, not ours – to come.