How I Celebrate My Single Mom on Mother’s Day
For some, Mother’s Day carries more grief than happiness.
Mother’s Day in my apartment was always a bit somber. As a child, I remember waking up ahead of my mother and sitting silently in bed as I wondered what to get her. My options were limited because I was only around six or seven. Nonetheless, I remember my strong desire to show my mom that I loved and appreciated her.
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I would slide out of bed and quietly tiptoe to the bottom kitchen cabinets, where I would find old-fashioned glass candy dishes that were likely meant as gifts for teachers, and some old Christmas paper, and do my best to wrap it for my mom. I would make her a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats, along with a tall glass of orange juice, and take the vase of flowers from the kitchen table and place it all onto a tray, ready to give my mom the best day of her life.
I vividly remember screaming, ‘Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!’ and giving her a big hug. While she hugged me back and said thank you, though, I could sense the somberness in her voice. Her eyes did not light up the way I wanted them to, and even as a child, I knew that it just wasn’t enough. It was from that point that I promised myself that when I got older, I would do everything in my power to see that little glimmer in my mom’s eyes for Mother’s Day, and every holiday, in fact, and try to show her my appreciation.
However, it wasn’t until I was older that I realized Mother’s Day was possibly a wound for her that I could not fix. While yes, the holiday is traditionally celebrated by a mother’s children, when they’re young, mothers rely on the village that supports them to celebrate them; my mom didn’t have that.
My father was not in my life, and the only person who came to my mother’s aid was my aunt. I never realized the crippling loneliness that my mother was dealing with on the holiday, and in a stark contrast, how much strength she had to still put on a brave face for my brother & I and pretend our makeshift gifts were the best things in the world.
My love language has always been acts of service, and I attribute that to my mother. I don’t often tell her how much I appreciate her, from the late nights she spent staying up with me doing homework to the early Saturday mornings she took me to ballet class on the subway and made sure my childhood was magical.
When I think of how to show my appreciation, I often find myself stumped until I realize — the best thing I could do is to acknowledge and sit with the feelings she had. I believe that Mother’s Day was a time of grief for my mom, a period when she realized how alone she was in raising my brother and me. And no matter how much I wanted shiny handbags or brand new shoes to fix that wound, I’ve come to realize that they’re all artificial.
I celebrate my mother by recognizing that the day is hard for her, and honoring her wants and needs. Whether she wants to stay inside and watch a movie with us, or if I can convince her to come out for the reservations I made. I discovered that holding space for those tough emotions, grieving the life that she thought she would have — being able to raise a family with her husband and not alone — was the best way I could tell her “I love you, and I see you.”
To any single mother struggling, you’re not alone, and your children recognize and honor the grief and somberness that may come with the celebratory holiday. And to my mother, I thank you for always doing your best to make sure my childhood was filled with bright memories, even when your light may have been dim. I love you, and I will always celebrate and honor you, dedicated holiday or not.
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