My family totally spoils me on Mother’s Day. As they should.
Of course there’s chocolate. And well before I open my box of See’s Chocolate Nuts and Chews, I will be served coffee and breakfast and the New York Times before I get out of bed….. delivered by one or both of my adult kids if they’re within a radius of 100 miles.
Even when my children are missing, I don’t miss out. When he was traveling abroad, Daniel arranged for a friend to show up at our house and stand in for him as a surrogate son. Obviously my kids get that Mother’s Day matters to me. Maybe I’ve mentioned it once or twice (they claim I repeat myself). Or maybe it’s a subliminal message they picked up knowing my history.
Long before they were born, and started spoiling me, Mother’s Day itself was spoiled. My mom died when she was 41 and I was 18. Whenever it happens, losing a mother cuts deep. When it happens prematurely, it’s devastating. And Mother’s Day was especially painful.
Even 15 years after her death, I still was hurting; and I didn’t know how to heal. And then I read Motherless Daughters by Hope Edelman. The wisdom and lessons in this book changed everything for me, and changed the landscape for all daughters who lose mothers. It comforted me to understand my grief, and to know I was not alone.
Through books, groups, and workshops, Hope Edelman became a beacon of hope and healing for thousands of daughters without mothers. It’s become a classic, a chain in a community linking motherless daughters all over the world. There is no better gift for a daughter who is hurting, on Mother’s Day or 364 other days of the year.
Since I first read her book, and learned more about her work, over the years I’ve been a huge Hope Edelman fan. Meeting her in person for the first time today was a magical and uniquely appropriate experience on the eve of Mother’s Day, an extra special gift.
Not that this takes my kids off the hook. I still expect breakfast in bed. And chocolate.
And I wish a Happy Mother’s Day to all.