I am a motherless daughter and I am also a motherless mother, so Mother’s Day Sunday always has a sharp edge to it.
Not only am I missing my own mother figures, but I am striving to raise my
daughter without the benefit of my mother and grandmother’s wisdom. As a parent, I have felt overwhelmed by the
task of raising a healthy and whole child; I have doubted my ability to instill
the right values and beliefs into my daughter.
I have wanted to pick up the phone to call my mother, to place all my
trust in any parenting advice she may have given. In those overwhelming parenting moments, I
have desired to leave my child in the care of my mother, knowing that I could
walk away in complete confidence and gather my thoughts. Mostly, I have longed for my own daughter to
know the love and care of a grandmother, the way in which I knew the
unconditional and incomparable love of
my own grandmother.
I celebrate Mother’s Day because being a mother is an
incredible gift. But during this day of celebration, I want to reflect on loss and
grief, because all of our lives are shaped by it. We find it difficult to talk
about, even though it is a common denominator that binds us across race, creed,
color, gender, class, political affiliation, and sexual orientation. Grief and loss mold us in ways seen and
unseen. On Mother’s Day each year, I mourn even as I celebrate.
Let us celebrate
the biological ties of motherhood, but let us also celebrate the power of love
and nurturing from all the women in our lives, even those women with whom we
share no blood ties: grandmothers and aunties; "play" mothers and
godmothers; church mothers and neighborhood mothers.
Celebrate all the women who were not allowed
to be mothers to their children. Celebrate all the women who cannot or will not
ever be mothers. Celebrate the women who made the courageous decision to give
their children to families who could care for them. Celebrate the women who,
when left and abandoned, made a way out of no way for their children. Celebrate
all the complications of motherhood...even loss. And while you celebrate, say a
prayer for those who so deeply feel the pain of being a motherless child,
including those of us who are motherless mothers.
© Yolanda Pierce
© Yolanda Pierce
