Holidays are bitter sweet. But not just holidays. Right now, my season of difficult parenthood happens to be around the holidays. So I am missing and grieving my mama something awful. We didn’t talk every day on the phone when she was alive and I know I wouldn’t be now. I do know that we’d be in touch in some way. And often. I know that because I crave the unconditional support only my mother can provide when I am feeling less than competent as a person and parent.
I don’t even know what she’d say to me. I’m sure whatever she did say would do the trick. The way her hugs would release the tears trapped behind my eyes and melt away the need for composure and poise… I crave that. I need and want that for my mental sanity.
For now, I lean on my husband, family and friends. I look to self-help books and books that help me escape. I dive into creative outlets at work and at home. I hope that my losses and my hardships serve as the silver lining to making connections with people. To deepen my understanding of the human experience. So I can do it better myself and possibly make it easier on others because this is hard. Life. Adulting. Parenting.
I have wonderful support networks. Sometimes, I feel embarrassed to even vent because I know there are women out there up against parenting and/or life challenges with less than half the people I have at my side. I don’t know who is reading but just know that there are plenty of mothers with a village behind them (or not) that are questioning their daily decisions, going to bed at night with an absurd amount of hypoethetical situations swirling around their head, and an occasional heavy dose of mama guilt to boot. I don’t have answers but I offer solidarity to anyone who is doing their best (despite or in spite of their circumstances).