My daughter is somewhat amused by my love of Mother’s Day. Especially since I usually express disdain for crass commercialism and enforced celebration. So I remind her of the many years I spent celebrating the day with my siblings, their wives and children. Always alone. I had accepted a life without children and taken responsibility for that. Don’t misunderstand me, there is a full and beautiful life to be had without children, but not if you desperately want children.
Mother’s day is not a happy day for all. Certainly not for those who wanted children but haven’t been blessed, for those who have lost their mothers or lost their children. We need to remember that not all mothers love and protect their children and that not all of us cherish mothers who have done their best.
My Mum is in care in Sydney and today she is lunching with my brothers and cousins, their partners and their children.
Mum is surrounded by those who love her. I have just spoken to her and heard their laughter in the background of a noisy Newman get together. But I won’t be there and she will miss me.
My cousins lost their Mum way too early and direct their affection to my Mum. And how happily we share her. I’ve written about the symbolic value of the all-embracing Jewish mother – to argue that we are all Jewish mothers, that children need the love and care of the village. So on this mother’s day it’s good to take a moment to think about those for whom this day is bitter sweet, and sadly sometimes, just bitter.