My Motherless Mother’s Day

Originally, I had a concept for Mother’s Day of capturing  snapshots of different thoughts, feelings, stories or quotes supplied by friends, family and acquaintances about all things “motherly” via social media. But my feedback was fairly limited. So I decided to alter my idea.

This is my second Mother’s Day without my mom.

Around Christmastime I noticed that the holidays were not so terribly heavy and unbearable. I was actually looking forward to celebrating in new ways. I was able to feel some joy and levity. But this one. This one has me a little bent. And I can’t really figure out why.

Puzzling out my current feelings with Mr. Reinvention the other day and admittedly most Mother’s Days when my mom was alive really sucked. The day was oozing with unmet expectations and disappointment. Even after I had a daughter of my own the holiday never quite felt mine. After my brother died the responsibility for me to create a nice day, tolerable to a person grieving the loss of a child became unattainable. It was a day of impossibilities and never quite getting it right and feeling slighted while wading through the thick swamp of grief. So why now am I so irritable? Why do I feel like fleeing to a place to be alone and quiet and usher the day in and out without fanfare? Is it because I will never have the opportunity to actually enjoy a Mother’s Day with my mom and my daughter? Is it because I feel like in many ways after my brother died I failed my mom as a daughter? I didn’t know then. I couldn’t know how to help her when she was drowning in her grief. I was busy wrestling with my own grief and my daughter’s grief and a colossal size suitcase of emotional baggage past to present my brother’s death threw wide open. A Pandora’s box, beyond my control. I was angry and embarrassed at the way my mother seemed to wilt and crumple and give up. I didn’t want to take care of her again after I just had begun to lay down and enforce boundaries with her. I was just breaking free from being tightly enmeshed with her for many years. I felt trapped and scared and mad as hell. Mad that my brother was taken from us and that he did this to us. Early on after my brother’s death that was my very limited but intense emotional range. I existed there. Accompanied by a constant knot in my gut and a prickly nervous energy.

When my mom died I felt pain. Soul sucking, knock the wind out of you pain and heaviness. Pain so intense and embedded I couldn’t see me without it. Like a siamese twin. I now wore the smile she wore. The one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. The one that looks a little forced and plastic. That’s how I felt inside too. My grief was like a heavy burka. No light could get in. I had a glimpse into what she must have lived after losing my brother. I felt tremendous shame and guilt for not being more empathetic and understanding.

After treading for what felt an endless amount of seconds, minutes, hours and days I arrive here. My second Mother’s Day as a motherless mother. I am no longer submerged in what I consider to be an active grief stage. I have survived and now am on the other side. I don’t have a label for this stage. I think it’s just called life now. Life after loss.

I am left here reflecting on the past and analyzing the present. What have I come up with? Well for one, perhaps most importantly, odd as it may sound….. I am going to be completely honest when I say that I feel that the biggest lesson my mother ever taught me was in her death. Her death forced me to completely re-evaluate myself and the course of my life. Hence my reinvention. Her death taught me more about living than any other lesson she presented.

That is not to say that my mother was not a teacher. She taught me more than I could ever compose or even acknowledge. She is in the very fibers of my being. The who, what, why, where and when of Melissa. She showed me love and kindness and loyalty. My mother loved her kids fiercely. She always touted that we were her biggest and proudest accomplishments. She called me her “Sunshine”. My mother fought for the underdog. She stood up to injustice and prejudice. She taught me about being tenacious. My mom pushed me to be my best. To become better and more than her. She was a wonderful friend and lived to care for and nurture others. My mom was always unconditionally my biggest cheerleader. Always. I also learned a lot about what I didn’t want to become by being her daughter, confidante and caretaker in her journey.

Barbara Jean was a survivor in the realest sense of the word her entire life. Knowing where she came from and what she went through it amazes me that she was able to function somewhat successfully. She hit many bumps and hurdles. Some self imposed, some imposed by others. But still she persisted.

Home for her was any beach. But she especially adored Sanibel Island. Gifted at the art of shell collecting and knowing each shell’s name.

Besides her children, her greatest love was my daughter. Baby Reinvention and my mom shared a special connection and bond that is irreplaceable.

I miss her every single day. What I wouldn’t give for one more shitty Mother’s Day with her.

Here’s what else I’ve come up with. I have been incredibly lucky. Graced with so many women who have “mothered” me throughout my life, especially now. I realize, I have been nested and held up by the unwavering love, hands, hugs, words and actions of so many fantastic women. Many are friends who are my soul sisters. Perhaps we spend time together or just an occasional text or phone call. But I feel their love and support. I feel their nurturing. They are rooting for me just as my mom did. Perhaps it is her, loving me, through these extraordinary women who are a part of me too. And maybe, just maybe I am able to show the world the best of Barbara Jean in my actions, in my love, in my life.

That is one motherless mother’s take on Mother’s Day this year. A huge thank you to all of my “mothers” but especially Barbara Jean. Thank you for guiding me, loving me, forgiving me and carrying me-no matter what.

Hug your mamas.



15 thoughts on “My Motherless Mother’s Day

  1. This was so beautifully written. Your words so eloquently put. You brought me to several holidays in your livingroom with your mother providing her special touches. I am so moved by your words thank you so very much.


    1. Thanks Anne. Yeah- she knew how to throw a great party and entertain. I miss those times. Thanks for reading!


  2. Crystal Coulson May 9, 2019 — 2:02 pm

    Your mom was truly a warrior and full of love. She always loved all your friends and made sure we felt it. I am proud of you sister. You are strong, persistent and a bad ass because of her! I’m so happy to have you in my corner after all these years. Make mothers day yours. Do nothing. Do everything. ❤️ I love ya!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. so sweet of u! ditto to u friend!


  3. Barbara was a great friend. Her devoured grief from your brothers death was somewhere no one could reach. You did what you thought was the right thing but sometimes none of us did the right thing. You are an amazing woman, mother, daughter and friend. Enjoy YOUR Mother’s Day. Its really all your mother ever wanted even though sometimes it was hard to attain the gratitude expected when you think your doing the best you can. Go to the beach, make peace with yourself honor her but it’s about you, baby reinvention and Mr. Reinvention now. Happy Mother’s Day Melissa

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Truly well said and you are absolutely right. None of us was able to go there with her. Thank you for your love and support.


  4. Ok, well, I read your passionately written, beautiful post four times now. This moved me so much, maybe because where I am at emotionally, and maybe because your mom has been on my mind so much lately too. You are such a strong, passionate, big hearted lady. Like your Mom. When you said your grief was like a heavy burka, no light could get in. Wow! That, to me, was very powerful. No better description. I feel so honored to be able to read your beautiful posts, to get to know the Melissa you have become, are becoming. I feel there is no better honor to your mom than these words. I wish you a beautiful Mother’s Day. Love to you. Deb

    Liked by 1 person

  5. This was so beautiful!! Are we soulmates? I’ve always hated Mother’s Day to like you don’t really get to be queen for a day you’re still the one planning the party having people over at planning the meal cooking doing the dishes cleaning up taking care of the kids putting them to bed always sucked and I always hated it. I worked on Mother’s Day with a girl around my daughters age whose mother had died so we both enjoyed how much it sucks together !! And yes what you said about learning so much about yourself after a tragic loss like this is incredible. I am a completely different person how I make decisions how I can’t make decisions when I go for and what risks I take now because why not? Who gives a fuck? I might as well try and have fun. You put it so well. Thank you.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you! Yeah- we totally speak the same language. There are some things you just cannot know or understand until you are in it. And it’s a shit club to be a part of. One I wouldn’t invite anyone into. Yes, death really shifts your entire paradigm of how you do life.

      Liked by 1 person

  6. It’s a bitch – I don’t ever feel like I have or can meet my Mum’s expectations or dreams; I know damned good and well that I didn’t my grandmother’s – and I am at a total loss as to how to deal with my daughter’s. Seems like everything I get for her or make with my grandson is “trash”… I feel like a fucking fraud on that day. The temptation to get utterly smashed on margaritas and get one hell of a sunburn out on the lake seems like a much better option than awkward gifts, conversations or interactions. I think I’m going to change it to “sister’s day” when all the sisters of my heart and I just get the hell out of Dodge and act like teenagers again. WHat’s a broken hip among friends anyway?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yeah- managing other people’s expectations is too hard. For me there is a lot of drinking and zero expectations for myself or anyone else that day. I make it a point now to surround myself with people I love and enjoy in my free time because life is way too short for “shoulds” Sister’s day sounds amazing!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Well, hell – let’s start planning now. This way we can make sure there’s enough booze and aloe vera!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create your website with
Get started
%d bloggers like this:
search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close