We’ve never officially celebrated Mother’s Day in my family. Mum’s birthday falls in the same week, so, given the choice of celebrating her specifically or all mothers generally, we plumped for her. However, there has always been a nod to Mother’s Day: the card made in school or a quick emoji-filled text.
Mum knows how much I love her. But I now realise, I never fully appreciated her.
Mother’s Day has taken on a whole new layer of meaning since having a child myself, because my notion of motherhood has changed so much.
My mum has always been a role model to me: she worked, kept a beautiful home, was stylish, read books (to me and, as far as I could tell, to herself as well), planned fun days out, helped with homework. I was never aware as a child what was going in the background (I imagine now late nights, early mornings, lots of multi-tasking— and there was no Amazon Prime or online shopping so she had to fit “general supplies” into the mix, too).
