The Mother’s Day Post
My thoughts after I woke up, but before I got up:
It’s Mother’s Day.
E’s getting blessed today.
In a family ward.
That means I have to go to church in a family ward on Mother’s Day.
Here’s how Mormons do Mother’s Day. We don’t have a paid ministry, so speakers for our meetings are pulled out of the congregation. On Mother’s Day, the speakers tend to run heavily to the youth–teenage girls crying when they talk about their moms, and teenage boys making stupid jokes–but still somehow choking up when they get to the serious part.
There may or may not be an adult speaker.
After Sacrament Meeting, the young men bring in small gifts to pass out to all the mother’s in the congregation.
The men then take over the women’s teaching duties to give them a break.
Sounds sweet, right? Well, it neglects to take into account the immense feelings of guilt that any given woman is carrying around on any given moment. Yeah, Mother’s Day is not a fun day at church…
Especially when you’re a single woman who would still be young in the rest of the world, but Mormons consider an old maid, and you are very much aware of your biological clock.
I made it to the sacrament hymn before I started crying. I made it through the first speaker before I slunk out, sobbing.
Honestly, I think it was as much the stress and emotion of the week catching up to me, in one very inopportune moment as it was feeling sorry for myself for not having a family of my own.
I managed to hide through most of the luncheon, Sis managed to put enough of the aunts and cousins to work that I was just getting in the way in the kitchen.
While in hiding, I was thinking about E’s birth mother, friends of mine who lost children, my sister, who is physically unable to bear children, and other women who would have reason to hate Mother’s Day as much as I do. Mom told me later “It’s not just you childless girls who hate Mother’s Day, it’s hard on all of us who are imperfect.”
Ugh, I’ve literally been working on this post all day–more than 13 hours. I’m ready to be done. I’m exhausted physically and mentally, and am so glad to be home.
But not as glad as Max and Lulu.