Dreading Mother’s Day? Me, too.

Last year I wrote about Mother’s Day and how I felt about it.

It hasn’t been an easy day for me in years. As I child, I remember looking forward to giving Mama something I had made, and even when I gave her simple beads on a string, she would beam and thank me and she’d wear the necklace. My mother was special, and she died at age 50. I’ve been without her more than half my life. I still miss her, wonder what her life would have been like, what our relationship would have been like had she lived longer. I especially missed her and appreciated all she had done once I had my own child.

If you’re a regular reader, you know that this blog is an offshoot of the book I wrote, “Strained Relations: Help for Struggling Parents of Troubled Teens.” The book and this blog came about as a result of my experiences with my son. I’ve talked with many people over the years about difficult or troubled teens, and it helped me to know I was not alone. It also helped that I was an investigator, keeping my own emotions out of it.

This year, more than others, I’m dealing with those emotions. I still don’t talk with my son and it’s been exactly four years and one month since he lived in our home. I really miss the child I had and the time we spent together. There were issues along the way, but really, it’s been since he was 13 that he was someone with whom you could have a conversation. He is 22 now and I’m still hopeful that we’ll repair our relationship in the future.

For that repair to happen I have to grow and learn and he has to do the same. I’m doing my part and hoping for good things for him.

Now I want to say one final thing about Mother’s Day. This is the most painful and cruel day for a mom who has lost a child. My son had a friend who came to our home several times. In the brief conversations we had, I had a richer sense of who he was and what was on his mind than I had with my own son. He was a lovely boy and very close to his family. He died suddenly when he was in college, and it wasn’t due to horrible things you assume with kids that age – he simply died. An adult’s version of sudden infant death syndrome, I suppose. I felt terrible, deeply sorry for his loss, for the loss to his parents and family.

If you’re wondering how you talk with someone who is estranged from a child or worse, that the child has died, here’s what I would do. I would say to that person, “I was thinking of you and I’m sure you miss your child. Do you want to talk about it?” Just acknowledge the loss, the emptiness, and don’t pry. If the person doesn’t want to talk, he or she won’t do it, but the important thing is that you have let them know it’s okay to talk or not talk, that you’re there and you care.

Take care, friends.

When You’re Not Looking Forward to Mother’s Day

I’m one of those who would like to skip Mother’s Day. It’s not because I’m opposed to it: it is due to my life circumstances.

Mama died in 1973. I have a wonderful mother figure in my dear Aunt Polly, and she has served in that role for many of her nieces and nephews who have lost their parents.

I am fortunate to have a terrific mother-in-law, and I call her “Mom”. She’s been such a wonderful addition in my life, so warm and caring. She welcomed my son and me into her life with open arms, has taken care of us when we needed help and has been a wonderful friend to me. I know how lucky I am.

Then there is the most important part of Mother’s Day for me, my own role as a mom. As my son and I are not on speaking terms at this time, and this brings me the most pain of all of my losses. There is no describing the love I have for him, the worry and the loss I feel.

It is my dearest hope that we will reconcile in the near future. I’ve opened my heart, opened my arms, and have invited him to talk with me. The next step is his.

Until then, I think I’ll do what I’ve done for the past few years: honor my mom, aunt and mother-in-law, hope the day passes quickly and that next year will be different with my son.

You’re welcome to share your thoughts and experiences.

Still Working on that Broken Heart

I write about family issues because it also helps me. Yes, it can be very therapeutic to know you’re not the only one with family difficulties, to review what you did, what you wish you did, and learn from the process.

Thanksgiving was always a family holiday for us as it is for many people. Some people dread the squabbles that will erupt, but we didn’t have that problem. Our son loves a good meal so that part wasn’t an issue, either.

For the past 2 ½ years, we’ve been estranged from our son. I don’t want to go into the details, it’s enough to say we have no contact and I don’t see it changing anytime soon. It’s painful and lonely, and there’s no substitute for having him in our lives, but we try to cope with the matter. It’s hard to accept.

I hear how he’s doing and know in general what’s happening in his life and it pains me to say that I don’t see much personal growth on his part. I hope that will happen in the future, but it clearly isn’t there now.

This Thanksgiving was spent with extended family as we’ve done before. And as in those other times, my son will be hovering in my mind rather than sitting nearby. I enjoy the time with family while missing him like crazy and worrying about him as always.