The Last Mother’s Day

Today is bittersweet. Yes, Mom is with us for another Mother’s Day — something we never expected. With the cancer diagnosis she was given six months ago, the odds of her still being here were slim.

It’s hard to be truthful and admit this, but sometimes I wish she wasn’t still here. OUCH. Not because I don’t love her — heaven knows I do — and not because I want her gone. It’s because she’s not really living anymore. She’s in pain, cognitively not at all the same, and her days are mostly spent waiting to die and worrying about how bad things will get. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

My day started with text messages from family and friends saying, “Happy Mother’s Day.” Not such a happy day. But I am a mom too, and I’m so very proud of my kids. I will always cherish being a mom on Mother’s Day. It’s just not about me today.

It’s easy for the siblings who aren’t here to get noticed with the cards and gifts sent in the mail. In her eyes, it feels like they really care, while I’m just the default daughter who is always here — the one who gets overlooked during special days like this. I know I shouldn’t take it personally, but that’s hard.

They get to call and talk to the nice version of Mom, the one who is so appreciative to hear from them on this special day. I get the mom who complains to me all day about this and that not being right, or the confused mom arguing with me about something very silly.

I know next year on Mother’s Day I will be very sad and missing her. Hopefully, I’ll find comfort in knowing I was blessed to spend the last one with her — no matter what her demeanor was.