Most Mother’s Days I just want to curl up in my bed all day with something mind numbing (a book, tv show, a nap, whatever) and a pizza, but that hasn’t seemed to be feasible the past couple years which is fine- at least work or plans get me out of the house. It feels awkward to talk about, and I like to acknowledge the wonderful women who have stepped up in my life in the absence of my mother (there are several of these women, and I don’t know what I would do without them) but nothing changes the fact that I will never see my mother again. And I resent that, and I resent seeing all of the Facebook posts about other people’s mothers all day, even though I know I should stay off, and I feel like a drama queen talking about it myself.
I already made one friend feel guilty today by mentioning that I teared up in the cards aisle, which was not my intention. Just because my mom died doesn’t mean I don’t remember being frustrated with her. In some ways the frustration is worse because she’s beyond my reach of resolving it; the ultimate argument cut off, if you will. There are so many things I never got to experience with her- not just the sweet things like my 20th birthday or my wedding day, but other things that only she could have answered, like her medical history or about sex stuff and other things like that.
I know we had a complicated relationship- I assume most mothers and daughters do. I resented her and I loved her and she could be my worst enemy and my best friend, and I relied on her so much that I was entirely lost for a ridiculous amount of time after she died and it changed me the way nothing else in this world has. I miss her so much and I barely remember what she was like sometimes.
I’m angry and I’m sad tonight and I’ll probably feel stupid for posting this and opening up so much in the morning but whatever.