Mother’s Day for Motherless Daughters

My granddaughters are currently at home, as are many children during the pandemic. This week has been focused on the upcoming celebration of Mother’s Day. Miss eight-year-old had a home school task to create an acrostic poem describing her mother.

The task read ‘It is Mother’s Day soon! A time when we celebrate our mums, our grandmothers, and the special women in our lives, and thank them for everything they do for us’. Her chosen words were magnificent, organised, terrific, happy, energized and recognized. Beautiful and accurate words to describe her mother, my daughter.

For me, this time of year is a cause for reflection. I, like many women, no longer have my own mother in my life. I am a Motherless Daughter. I have assumed this role for most of my life having lost my mother to cancer when I was 22 years old. She was only 52. My mother had so much more life to experience and sadly for her that was not to be. My grandmother died six months later leaving yet another feminine void in my life.

My wedding day was bittersweet. I remember my matriarch of aunts and female family members sitting around the kitchen table before I headed to the church to be married. My beautiful father bravely having photos taken, both of us keenly aware that this was the first of many missed occasions for my mother. Many years and many occasions would pass without her presence. The birth of our two children and their childhoods, their weddings, and their children. So many generational links broken by the passing of a mother.

The year when I reached 52 years of age was surreal. I remember feeling a bodily sense of living her final life stage through me. I felt relatively young and blessed with good health. I kept thinking that she had been way too young to die.

There was so much going on in my own life at 52.  I was at that time working in the teaching profession, had young adult children and already was a grandmother. So many beautiful experiences that would have been precious to share with her. Knowing myself that at this age women are ‘empty nesting’ and there is much to experience beyond. Her advice and gentle guidance would have been invaluable. There was no road map for beyond.

The life lesson for me is in my life choices. It is more poignant and important for me now to maintain a close relationship with my children and grandchildren. I have made a conscious decision to be a regular physical part of their lives. I want them to know me and have amazing memories of our lives together. We are sharing life. I am learning much about how they are navigating the 21^st century as parents of children and teenagers. They are learning about navigating the later stages of life through my experiences. Together, we can be open and vulnerable.

No matter when we lose our mothers, we also lose a part of ourselves. We lose a close confidante who can help us navigate the world. Some lose their mothers in childhood, others young adulthood and the fortunate when their mothers are quite elderly. Others sadly, lose their mothers while they are still alive through mental illness or addiction.  In each case there is a profound loss. A hole in our lives where our mother used to be.

As Mother’s Day is celebrated today, remember for many daughters it is a bittersweet time. A painful reality seeing other families showering gifts and spending time with their mothers. Many motherless daughters turn off temporarily from social media and advertisements as it is a constant reminder for them of their loss on this day of celebration.

Instead they quietly reflect with photos, flowers and candles as rituals of reflection. They visit her gravesite, cook her favourite meal or raise a glass of wine to remember her. They may seek out other motherless daughters who will understand the unique ongoing grief that is mutually shared.

One thing that may be learnt from the experience of losing a mother is a deep sense of appreciating life. Knowing how finite life is and the possibility that at any point it could end, makes life all the more precious. No longer taken for granted and each day an invitation to be joyfully lived.