Is your mother really your best friend? I have friends who say theirs is. At the very least, they consider their moms to be one of the people they are closest to. Someone they can go to for anything.
I wonder what that’s like.
It must be nice to have someone to call when you had a hard day and need some encouragement or have a home to go to and know you can enjoy a meal or atleast maybe a snack and a hug. A safe place where there is no judgement but only unconditional love. Somewhere to go for if only fifteen minutes when your kids are driving you nuts and you just need a minute to think because you know she will entertain and love them while you’re there. Someone to invite to your children’s events that will love seeing your kids faces light up as much as you do yourself.
I don’t know what that’s like, and sometimes it makes me sad. Okay, a lot of times it makes me sad.
I have a mother but she’s no longer here with us. She passed away before I started my adult life. Before I became a mother myself.
I catch myself watching other moms and daughters interacting. Something I probably wouldn’t even think about if my mom was still here. I see mothers and daughters enjoying conversations over lunch, getting pedicures, shopping together for their kids/grandkids, planning birthday parties, going to kids events together, enjoying their company while the grandkids play, the list goes on. I witness young moms in different places with their children and often see them handing their child off to their mom so that they can focus on whatever it is they’re doing. I often wonder what that feels like. I don’t have anyone in my life like that.
I find myself trying to fill the void by inviting others in the place of where I would have invited my mom if she were here – and to be honest, it usually leads to disappointment. Not that their company isn’t enough, it’s just not the same as if my mom were here.
My reality is that what I want is never going to happen. I’m never going to have that mother/daughter conversation over lunch or swing by to pick up my mom so she can go with the kids and I to a show. It just isn’t reality.
It’s hard to be a mom myself when I don’t have my own here for me to lean on when things get rough. I can’t pick up the phone and call my mom. I can’t share my children’s milestones with her or how they did the silliest thing at daycare today.
I read Facebook posts and blogs of women who brag about their mothers and have such special bonds with them, and I can’t help but be a little envious. Why can’t my mom be here too?
Sure, she may be here with me in my heart and I think in a lot of cases I know what she would say or dream of how she would react. But that’s just it, they are just thoughts and dreams.
While my mom hasn’t been here since I have become a mom, she set an example of the mom I want to be while she was raising me. So while I grieve my mom and fantasize of what her presence would be like, I’ll continue to raise my children the way I think she would be proud of. And if I’m lucky – maybe, just maybe – my daughter will call me one of her best friends someday.