So ... I have issues with Mother's Day.
Call it latent angst from my shriveling eggs realizing that they'll never earn that magic ride to the castle and chance at immortality by passing on some amazing freakin' genes.
Call it a massive left-over guilt trip of having been a soccer mom step-mom only to have it ripped away then gradually losing touch with a now 21 year old young man whose diapers I once changed. [Thank God and his common sense that he has found a job he enjoys and is making his own way in life (while wisely loving geek movies and books along the way).]
Call it that middle-aged recognition that my Mom is a real person with human weaknesses and that we might have very VERY different ideas about life, love, values, music, movies, hobbies, fun, morals, ... just about everything.
... like whether the 's' in Illinois is silent.
[YES ... IT IS.]
... like whether davenport and couch mean the same thing; or toilet and stool; or dinner and supper or lunch.
[PERHAPS ... BUT PEOPLE IN MICHIGAN LOOK AT YOU WEIRD.]
... like whether she should ever say the words "moist' or "ripe" ever EVER again.
[FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY, NOOOOOOOO!]
Mother's Day rolls around each year and I'm faced with a combination of gratitude for those "mothers" in my life, including Mom, and jealousy over that important part of life of which I've only had a small taste. I'm at "that age" now ... again with the shriveling vision ... the age at which that possibility is pretty much, well, gone.
I'll never have my young Jasper or Kimber (oh, yeah ... I HAD names picked out). I'll never have that small person who looks to me as "Mom" and seeks out my advice. My step-son, my niece and nephews all have moms of their own. I'm left with "Kimmie" or "Aunt Kimmie."
Now, having an Aunt Berb and Pam of my own, I know very well that the "aunt" and "step-mom" role can at times be a role just as important as mom. Sometimes, we have adults in our life who have played the "like a mom" role and will forever receive Mother's Day recognition whether they have given birth or not. It's about sharing knowledge, listening, and love. I DO get that.
On Mother's Day, though, it's never quite enough.
I wish it was; really, I do. I wish I could write the inspiring - "I may not be a Mom but I'm an aunt and that's enough" - post where I spew thoughts of "it's enough to be a part of their lives" and "it takes a village ... as long as the hooker, drunk, and crime lord are already locked up" but ... the truth is that while I might understand the important role I can have in the lives of my loved younguns, it is impossible for me to believe that it is the same. Important, but not the same.
Eh, I know. That's just me having a mother-hugging pity party
I get through this particular May Day each year by focusing on celebrating my Moms - My Mom, my step-mom, my aunt, my sisters, my sister-in-law, my friends, pretty much every female who loves and accepts me for who I am while advising me on life.
And/or spending a few days volunteering at the zoo.
That, more than anything else, typically cures me of any desire to give birth.
So, power to the mothers of the world. Relish those young hugs, kisses, and cries of "Mommy!" You are one of the most important people in a person's life - from birth to adulthood, you will help shape a personality. You give confidence. You give courage. You give hope. You give support, knowledge, and love.
Happy Mother's Day this Sunday to the mothers in my life and yours. Salute!