Mother's Day?

I'm not a mom, so occasionally I get an awkward 'Happy Mother's Day!' greeting from people who assume that I have children, or people who don't know me. 

I don't mind. I've been Auntie B and Miss Brenda and all manner of other nicknames to enough little people and teenagers to know that I've influenced them (hopefully) for good, despite whether or not I ever have my own kiddos.  

I'm not opposed to Mother's Day — I do think that moms everywhere should be celebrated and should get a day off.  

But does it all have to happen on the same day? 

I find the whole premise of Mother's Day kind of funny. I used to waitress, and often had to work on that day. Mothers of all kinds came in with their families. They waited in line forever, the service wasn't great because we were always so crazy and busy, the cooks were ready to tear our heads off, and usually the moms themselves seemed to be the most uncomfortable ones in the restaurant. 

The funniest part was that most of the women I waitressed with were actually moms themselves. Yet here they were, working to serve someone else's mom. Rather than dealing with a child's temper tantrum, they had to deal with the cook. (Frankly, I think their kids may have been easier to negotiate with.)

The whole thing seemed kind of ironic to me. 

So, years ago, I officially banned 'take mom out on Mother's Day'. It's not that my mom doesn't deserve a day off. Goodness knows, she's been through hell and back this year -- she deserves more than a day off. 

She also deserves my love and honor for her every day of the year. Not only today. 

My mom is an amazing and strong woman. I told her today she's always been the champion of my adventures, and my hero in the adventures she's gone through in her own life.

As a child, she was like superwoman to me. Superhero or not, she still needs to eat. So instead of flocking to a restaurant today, I made my mom brunch. 

We ate like pigs and drank far too much coffee. We joked that my brother would have liked the spread I put out for her. And then we cried a little. 

Years ago, when the Sailor and I first got married, we lived with his parents. That Mother's Day the siblings all visited at the same time. That was the last time that I can remember all of the family together in the same place — circumstance and distance make get-togethers difficult. I cooked made-to-order omelets for the crowd and remember my mother-in-law beaming from ear to ear at the table, listening to the chatter. All she wanted on that day was to have all of her children there with her. 

I think today, that's all my mom wanted too. 

So today, and the rest of the year, remember those moms who have lost children, whether young or old — or for the children they wanted to have but never could. 

Remember those whose mothers have already passed on — the ones who still wish they had a mom to take out on this day. 

Remember the adopted-moms in your own life or in your children's lives. They may or may not have their own children, but they've been there for you or yours.  

And above all, remember that while moms usually love their gifts and dinner out, they probably would rather have a hug and a phone call at least every Sunday — not just this one. (It goes without saying that they probably want brunch a little more often, too.)

Happy Mother's Day to the many women in my life who have influenced me, but especially to my own Mama.