A Day not penned in my Calender

 

Hmmm… Mother’s Day. Well I’ve always dreaded this day. Mother’s Day has always evoked poignant memories that I would rather not think about. Ever since I can remember, this day has either begun badly or ended badly. Hence I’ve always tried to shy away from any reminders or activities that usually come up during this season. This year was no different. I found myself once again, switching channels when any Mother’s Day-related commercials are being aired. The sight of a mother from whichever commercial or sitcom, hugging their child or kissing them on their forehead sickened me all the way right down to my gut. I just couldn’t watch, yet at the same time, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I would even switch radio channels if they were playing a song about mums or airing a commercial that promotes Mother’s Day. Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for celebrating the miracle of motherhood but I have never really had anything to celebrate. I’m always reminded of the things I had to go through or the painful events that led to Mother’s Day, things that I would rather not mention here. So while I had good friends that leaped for joy at buying things for their mums or painstakingly plan something special for the mums, I, on the other hand wished the earth would swallow me up a week before the day and spit me out the day after. I always wished I could have the same joy that all my friends had. The joy at buying a card that says ‘You did everything for me’, getting a gift that your mum has always wanted, or buying beautiful roses that says ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I love you.’ It was always forced upon me to do all this. While I watched all my friends from work, school and church get hugs and kisses from mums that I would sell my soul to get, I had to do all those things to someone I literally loathed then. As I grew older, nobody could force me to do anything but I would do it for the sake of doing it because it was the right thing to do and not because I really wanted to. My loath has dulled with age but I still feel it there. My hate has turned into pity. Pity, because I know that whatever happened is nobody’s fault and things happen for a reason. My mission now is to become a good mother. I would never have my children feel the same way about Mother’s Day like I had. I pray that my dear God wipes away clean my loath and gives me fresh joy for the celebration motherhood because it is indeed a miracle.

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