I’ve been looking forward to Mother’s Day for a while now. While it’s technically my girls’ weekend to spend with their dad, we’re swapping out weekend time so they can spend the day with me (We’ll be doing the same thing for him for Father’s Day). While we weren’t making any concrete plans, I was looking forward to having a whole Sunday with my girls and CBG (which is something that doesn’t happen all that often).
MY day. All for me. Because I’m Mom and I deserve to be celebrated, dammit!
And then Wednesday night my mother phoned.
She lives out of town, and knew that CBG and I were planning on bringing the girls sometime soon for a visit, and was phoning to ask if maybe it was going to be on Mother’s Day. She told me that she just wanted to “be prepared” “just in case” we were coming for a visit. I told her that wasn’t our plan, and reminded her that I’d already told her weeks ago that we would be coming for a visit at the end of May.
Later in the conversation I asked if she had any Mother’s Day plans. She told me that she didn’t, and that she suspected she wouldn’t actually be seeing any of her kids on Sunday, as she’s away from home right now, spending a few weeks with her gentleman friend at his primary residence (the two of them have an arrangement where they spend a few weeks at his house, then a few weeks at hers, going back and forth between the two homes throughout the year). I could hear a tinge of disappointment in her voice.
After I got off the phone with her I explained the situation to CBG. He told me that we could spend Mother’s Day however I wanted, whether that meant a relaxing day of spoiling me or traveling to go see my mum for the afternoon. I talked to my girls about it, who were split on the decision. I decided to sleep on it.
Thursday morning I mulled it over while I was out on my run. I thought about how even though my mum has been busy doing her own thing these last few years (since the appearance of the aforementioned “gentleman friend”), she and I have pretty much always been close. After the death of my father, I was her only child still living at home, and this brought us a lot closer. When I was going through my separation and divorce, she was a huge support to me — mentally, emotionally, and even financially. I thought about how *I* would feel if I were spending Mother’s Day without my own girls around.
And then I was hit with one particularly sobering thought: I don’t know how many more Mother’s Days we have left together. My mother is getting up there in years and realistically we likely don’t have that many years left together. Life is so incredibly uncertain…the future isn’t guaranteed to any of us. I know that one day I will find myself wishing that I could spend just one more Mother’s Day with my mom. Well here’s the thing…she’s here now, isn’t she? I intend to enjoy having time with her, this year, on Mother’s Day, rather than one day regretting that I didn’t spend more time with her when I had it.
Life is far too short.