(For tomorrow, of course… Don’t anybody say I’m not ahead of the game, oh no!)
For years I bucked against Mothers Day (and Father’s Day and Valentines Day et al) on the grounds that it was just an over-comercialised money making opportunity for fat cats. Then I became a mother, and now I get it. What it really means. (Also, how bad was that of me to not get it before. Sorry Mum and Dad.) I don’t mean I get how lovely it is to get cards and flowers and stuff, or that I wasn’t grateful before. But now I really get how important it is to feel that all the dirty mothering you do, the daily grind, all that being a mother involves – literally, the blood sweat and tears, is recognised.
In the spirit of self-love I want to celebrate this part of myself which although I found incredibly difficult to settle into. I want to celebrate the fact that, yes, I am doing a pretty good job. It’s no underestimation to say, I think it’s been the making of me (who’d have though it?)
Mothering Sunday is traditionally a Christian celebration which began around the 17th Century. It was the second Sunday in Lent and it was an opportunity to celebrate the “mother church” and for families to come together to be with their families. It had also been known as Simnel Sunday or Refreshment Sunday in recognition of the traditional Easter cake which may have been baked, and a lessening of lenten austerity in celebration of fellowship and family. My favourite alternative name though, is Rose Sunday, for the posies of wild flowers that would have been collected by people as they travelled home and then presented to all women in the church congregation. I can just imagine the churches festooned with beautiful spring flowers. I love that the flowers would have been given to all the women in the congregation too. You don’t need to have birthed a baby to be able to Mother somebody. Sisters, aunties, friends and neighbours all contribute to childcare in communities here and around the world. And what adult woman has not cried upon the shoulder of a friend when their own mother was far away or no longer with them?
Finally, I’ve been feeling recently, that all the residual teenage cynicism has left me feeling a bit bereft of celebrations in life and I intend to change that! So, any festival that is essentially based on family, cakes and flowers has got to have a big thumbs up from now on!
Thank you to all the Mums who have mothered me. You know who you are, you beautiful bosomed creatures! X
I’d love to know if you celebrate Mother’s Day, and if so, how will you express your thanks this weekend? Do you celebrate your just own mother or “other mothers” who have been a big part of your life? Leave comments below!