Yet another Mothers Day is here and although I am a mother now myself I can’t help but think of my own mother this time every year. For years now I have pushed her from my mind the rest of the year, I have stopped myself thinking about her and have focused on my own life, my own beautiful family and how far I have come since I even saw her last.
Last year I wrote about how thankful I was for all the things my mother taught me and the values she instilled in me. That will never change – there are traits in my character that I get from her and that I am glad to have and I will always appreciate the childhood I had.
I wrote a while ago about Motherhood, my thoughts on it and how my relationship with my mother has moulded my own view of motherhood and what a mother should be. Mostly, I hope to do things differently to how my own mother did them and so far I think I am succeeding – even if so far the only thing I have done differently to my mother, as my oldest child nears her fourth Birthday, is keep a stable family home around my children.
I have had a lot of mother figures enter and leave my life over the years, the one consistent factor being Dave’s wonderful Mum who I would be lost without. But even with other people around, other family and amazing friends, there is always a gap where my own mother should have been. Sadly though, that gap is now too big and far too deep to ever be filled – there was a time when I would have welcomed my mother back into my life but after the first years of hurt and upset, followed by years of disappointment and sadness I know that our ships have sailed and the opportunities to be in each other’s lives have gone.
I think back to the times I would have liked my mother there – shopping for a wedding dress, getting ready on the morning of my wedding, watching me say my wedding vows and sitting on the top table on my wedding day. She could have been one of the first I told about my pregnancies, there throughout those long nine months and been one of the first to hold her grandchildren. She could have been there during those early newborn days, someone for me to tell of the milestones the children went through and to be there to see them have birthdays and Christmases.
But the reality is very different. I am now 30 years old and I haven’t seen my mother in over 7 years and haven’t lived with her for nearly 14 years. The times where I have needed her in my life have passed me by and the times where I would have liked her to be there are now few and far between. Now, I think of her on Mothers Day each year with a pang for the relationship we could have had and thinking about all she has missed out on. I know she would have been a wonderful grandmother if she’d just given herself the opportunity but instead she has made it so that she is the only one to miss out – Little Man and LP know no different.