Another Day:

Father’s Day was last Sunday.  My pastor, Brian Rayburn, preached an awesome sermon on being a man after God’s heart.  Still, to me it was just a day.  My dad’s been dead for 24 years; no grandfathers or in-laws to celebrate with.  I had a friend say the same thing:  it’s just another day.  It started me thinking about how much we allow memories or events from the past to mark our days in the present. 

Mine was Mother’s Day; something I have never gotten to celebrate as a mother.  Not married until 29, 2 miscarriages, 1 hysterectomy and 1 divorce later the notion of celebrating Mother’s Day as a mother was dead.  It was not an easy death but then, deaths like those rarely are. 

I dreaded that holiday.  It was a constant barrage of advertising all pointed at reminding me I was not a mother.  At least that’s the way it seemed to me.

I dreaded going to church that Sunday because they made a big deal out of it (and rightly so).  Mothers are special (yes, Dads are too).  Still, it was hard to celebrate with the mothers while I sat in the pew knowing I would never be celebrated like that.  I don’t want to sound self-pitying, just know that it was not an easy thing to let go of but God got me through it.    

I did not become the eccentric aunt (no snide remarks from the peanut gallery) or the crazy cat lady (again, no remarks) but it was a close run thing. 

Today, I am surrounded by loving nieces and nephews (even greats).  I don’t see them often but I enjoy it when I do.  I ooh and ah over the babies (both blood and adopted), spoil them and send them home (no muss; no fuss).  Every so often, someone will ask if I would like to take one home (in a heartbeat).  I always say yes and mean it. 

I enjoy celebrating Mother’s Day ,now.  My mom passed last year but I still have Carole (ex-mother-in-law; good friend) to celebrate with. 

I wrote a song and one verse asks: 

will I let my tears and fears guide each step I take

or will I let go of my past

and be free at last

to live in the here and now

I choose the here and now.