I think this time of year will always be an emotional one. It’s my baby’s birthday and Mother’s day. It’s not a “tough” time for me personally. For me it’s wonderful, but it’s a complex type of wonderful.
It’s not Gelato wonderful, it’s fine wine wonderful.
Maybe it’s just that motherhood is new for me, but I saw signs that that complexity was not unique to me, in the Facebook posts from the end of the day on Mother’s Day.
Mother’s Day morning is full of photos and posts about having the best mother ever. Mother’s Day evening posts are different.
Mother’s Day evening posts are sad, relieved, distressed, elated, frustrated, thoughtful, complex, real.
It’s like the pressure of all those expectations and ideas of how things should be, builds and builds, until it starts to push some truth to the surface.
Maybe we should all get a visit to the therapist for Mother’s Day, a chance to think outloud about all this day means to us. Can I do that and keep my flowers as well?