A Post-Mother’s Day Reflection

For some, Mother’s Day is a day for celebration. A chance to show our moms how much they mean to us, how grateful we are that they are in our lives, and how much we appreciate everything they’ve done for us, not just throughout our childhoods, but throughout our entire lives. A day for them. 

Not everyone looks forward to this annual occasion. Many dread it. Many simply let it pass. Many forget all about it, unless their inboxes are flooded with “5% off Mother’s Day sale!!!” or “It’s not too late to buy that fancy necklace she’s never going to wear but you feel obligated to buy anyway because IT’S MOTHER’S DAY!!!” It can be hard to avoid, even when you’re trying to. 

The most recent data from 2023 reveals that roughly 31% of everyone in the United States has lost their biological mother. Considering that there are roughly 340 million people currently living in the country, that’s a substantial portion of the population––but not enough to keep the day safe from good old-fashioned capitalism and commercialization. Where does this leave not just the millions whose mothers are no longer with us, but the inevitable millions more who don’t feel like they have a relationship worth celebrating? While many of these very people may be parents themselves who celebrate with their own children, many are not. And those who do have children may also find themselves with complicated feelings.

I consider my relationship with my own mother pretty good. I’m fortunate in so many ways to have her as my mom, and to have two supportive, loving parents. However, I know so many, both personally and anecdotally, who don’t have this privilege.

Some of us, like me, have a mother worth celebrating (though I find it odd that some people only seem to care about their mother’s wants once a year, and even then it can appear to be performative). We make homemade pancakes that are too dry because we’re not professional chefs. We try to buy something they’ll like, even if they’re impossible to buy for. We make them things, like homemade cards and new memories. Mother’s Day is an event, something to look forward to each year.

Some of us have lost our mothers or mother-figures that we used to spend this day with, or had mothers who were never quite there, or have complicated relationships with our mothers––we may question whether to give them a call or to let it go. Some of us have never had mothers to begin with. Maybe we were raised by other family members, or raised by strangers, or by no one. Some of us may have perfectly fine relationships with our mothers and don’t care to make anything out of the day. It’s just another Sunday. Others go overboard, trying to buy a million things to make up for the questionable things we’ve done to them over the years. Some of us are aware of our mistakes but don’t feel like a bouquet of flowers is going to fix anything, so we don’t bother treating it like a special day.

Some of us don’t know how to define our relationship with our mothers, so we don’t know how to define this day and pinpoint what it means to us. And many of us, most of us, know that for as many mothers and children in the world, there are equally as many variations on their relationships, whether nonexistent or present, toxic or loving, undeserved or morally fair. 

To those who celebrated this year: happy belated Mother’s Day. To those who didn’t, I hope you had a great Sunday.