On Mother’s Day: An Open Letter and Other Thoughts

Let me start by saying, I really suck at blogging, that much is clear. I haven't updated since November. The last entry was my reaction to the Paris bombing (which can be read here), and what a confusing and heartbreaking time we're in. I have to say as well, that between the Paris and Brussels bombings, and the current circus sideshow that is the campaign trail to the presidency, I seriously just fell out of touch with everything good in this world, and went even more radio silent than I normally do in between entries. But that is going to change. All things creative will change. I kinda have to give thanks to a long catch-up conversation with my ex-creative director and friend from NC (who, by the way, has a fabulous and insightful blog related to the creative/advertising world called The Daily Manifesto). She made me realize that even when I’m down in it or have nothing to say, I should just write anyway. That I shouldn’t focus on who is reading it, or how many are actually reading it, but just simply write for myself. Which is pretty much what I do anyway, because let’s face it, who really wants to read about the daily roller coaster ride of a never-been-married-never-had-children perimenopausal wannabe artist in the middle of a mid-life crisis? That’s more of what nightmares are made of, instead of inspired reading. By writing once a week, it will keep me connected to that side of me. The creative side I keep misplacing. And the same should be applied to my painting as well because honestly, the more your hands are in it, the more your hands will actually be in it. That is my new goal. To just be in it.

So, that being said, I thought I would start the "being in it" goal today, because today is Mother’s Day. And all Hallmark and flowers aside, it’s such a beautiful way to honor and thank the women who brought us into this world. For better or worse, I suppose. And it’s a day for you, dear mom’s out there, to take a breath and a break from your hard work. I’m sincerely hoping you’re appreciated today, and are finding a moment of peace in whatever form it takes. Because God knows just how much you deserve it.

But you know, I also want to address the the women who feel a bit melancholic today. Whether it’s for those who have lost their mother, or for those who never knew their mother. It can even be tough on the women like myself who have never had the opportunity to be a mother. I know it might sound strange to some, but Mother's Day is a reminder of some sort every year. It's a reminder of loss, of the unknown, and a reminder that every year older closes the window for some, just a little bit more. People who know me, know that being a mom was never a priority in my life. I figured if it was ever meant to be, well, it would be. It wasn’t something I felt strongly enough about to seek out and make happen. And the Universe seems to feel I have other things to do instead. It's probably just as well. A fictional Murphy Brown-mom should stay fictional (wink). But that doesn't mean I don't feel it. That I'm not affected by the fact it isn't going to happen for me. And there are so many women like me in the world. Did you know it actually causes an issue with other women who *are* moms? Yes, it’s true. We're questioned and judged for not being a mom. Like we have somehow insulted all women by not using our reproductive organs. It’s a real thing. That's weird, right? That women would judge or question other women for NOT having children? I mean, too many women are having too many children in terrible conditions for terrible reasons, yet I, and others like myself, am questioned. I supposed it never occurred to them that some women CAN'T have children. And that there are many reasons why some don't. And that for some it really wasn't a choice. But I digress. And have already touched on that in a previous entry, so I will move on, and shift the focus to where it belongs today. A celebration of all mom's, and for the non-mom's, because as women, we have most likely acted like a mother to someone who needed it at some point in their lives.

So now, let's meet Virginia. Yes, it's a great song by Train, but I am referring to the utmost brightest light in my life. She is kind, strong and loving, funny and supportive, she is grounded, and simply the most beautiful woman I have ever met. She is my Mom. And however awkward it may read, I felt a need to write an open letter to her.

To my beautiful Mom...

I really suck at being a daughter sometimes. I do. So I want to apologize for that. I want to apologize for living so far away, for not sharing a lot of what I go through, and for the quirky shit I do like weirdly not talking on the phone as often as a normal daughter does. I apologize for shutting down and shutting out, and for not telling you how much I love you and how amazing you are, every single day. I don’t have an easy way to explain any of that either. 

I suppose I just don’t always know how to be close to people. It's probably because when they aren't around anymore, it hurts. When I love people, it tends to be a trillion times more intense than the average bear, so the hurt from it feels like a thousand bombs going off in my chest. I get my empathic tendencies from you, but I haven't quite figured out how to reign it in as gracefully as you do. So that often gets in the way, and serves as the mortar that keeps parts of the wall up. I don't want you to worry about me, and I never, ever want to see you disappointed in me. Therefore, I tend to remain self-contained. I guess I'm like Lenny in Of Mice and Men. I love too hard. So it’s probably a good thing that you and the other people I love can't fit into my pockets. 

I need you to know that I think about you everyday. I try to be just like you every single day, and I try to do what I can to make you proud of me every single day, whether you know what I’m doing or not. I try to live the way I think you would be proud of, and avoid the mistakes I know might disappoint you. I’m not always successful, but I’m trying. You raised me, and I owe you at least that much. Your words of encouragement and support, I carry in my heart wherever I go. And always will. 

On this Mother’s Day, I thank my lucky stars that I have you as my Mom, and that God or the Universe thought that I could possibly be a true representation of who you are, by being born and becoming the woman I am. And if I can accomplish that, then I know I have truly succeeded in life. 

I love you, Mom, more than there are stars in the sky. Big much, my whole world. Thank you for believing in me, how I live my life, and trusting my heart. Thank you for being my best friend.

Love, Wendy

And so, to the rest of the amazing mom’s out there—be it of humans or fur-babies—know that you are loved, honored, and heard, no matter how your children may (re)act throughout their lives. Thank you for dedicating and sacrificing your worlds and sanity for the sake of your children. I will never know what it’s like to be a mom, so I live vicariously through all of your trials and tribulations. I can’t imagine a greater or more difficult job and experience on the planet. 

Before I go, I want to share the words from a card my mother bought me once. It was for no particular reason, other than she just knew I needed it. Because that is who she is. I keep it on my fridge as a daily reminder of her love, and who I have grown to be in her light:

I believe in you—

in the things

that are important to you

and in the way you choose

to live your life…

I believe that you can accomplish

anything you set out to do,

that you have many talents 

and the wisdom to use them well…

I believe that you have what it takes

to overcome obstacles

and to grow from every experience

life brings your way…

I believe in your courage,

your compassion,

your integrity,

and your strength.

I believe in your goodness.

I believe in you.

Mommy, if it’s even possible I have ANY of those things, it’s because of you. 

Happy Mother’s Day, everybody. :)

The beautiful Virginia.