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My Mother is Not The Hallmark Kind
Our moms aren’t perfect but what they are is enough
For some of us, there’s never quite the right Mother’s Day card. We stand in the shop, surrounded by flowers and flower-covered purses, vases, and diaries, scanning the card-stand — trying to find one that’s generic enough.
You were always there for me: you’d kiss me goodnight and sing me to sleep, you’re a shoulder to cry on, there in my good days and my bad…no, scrap that one. We hunt out the blank cards — some non-mother’s day one with a cute animal on the front — and fill in our own message: I love you mum. Happy Mother’s Day. That’s enough. That’s all she wants to hear. That’s often all there is to say.
It’s not like they don’t want to be there for us, they just can’t be. Mine knew my dad was better at those everyday things — the nurturing stuff. My mom left the family home and took up the position of distant “inspirational parent” instead; the strong female figure in my life. The one that showed me — proved to me — that women can do anything. That I can do anything. That we can be flawed but still be powerful.
Our moms are imperfect, but they are ours and they can make us proud, even while we wish at times (like on mothers’ day) that we had one of those mothers that the cards talk about.
