When Things are Broken and it’s Mother’s Day

I really don’t know what to do when things are broken and Mother’s Day creeps up and everywhere are photos and flowers and gatherings and sunshine. I don’t know what to do, except wait for Monday. Books have been arriving here lately at an alarming rate, a rate much faster than reading speed. Maybe this is a weekend to get lost in one and stay off social media. A weekend to paint, to play music. Church, which I love, is a huge gamble. Game-time decision there.

There are times when muddling through is the best you can do. Muddling through is an underrated skill. I used to be blind to those who muddled through. I once was blind, but now I see. And maybe this sight will be useful to me in some way. I’m sure it will. I’m just not sure how. But I have faith.

About Marilyn

Reading, thinking, listening, writing and talking about faith, creativity, ESL for refugees, grief and finding the story in a story. Student of Spanish. Foe of procrastination. Cheez-it fan. People person with hermit tendencies or vice-versa. Thank you so much for reading.
This entry was posted in boundaries, self-pity, transitions. Bookmark the permalink.

17 Responses to When Things are Broken and it’s Mother’s Day

  1. Fern Boldt says:

    I know how you feel. I always dreaded Mother’s Day sermons. “Honor to whom honor is due,” helped me realize that not all mothers can pass that test. Read a good book, Marilyn. I’ll be working in the church nursery.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. pastordt says:

    In many ways, I really do not like Mother’s Day. It feels like a manufactured holiday, and I’m sort of tired of it. My children are all mothers themselves, and I don’t need them to hang around with me on Mother’s Day. So I will just hang loose, and wait till Monday. I do know about muddling through. And yes, you will put this strange knowledge to very good use – in fact, you already are.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Belinda says:

    Sending hugs.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Belinda says:

      I thought of you today Marilyn, and several friends for whom this was the first Mother’s Day without their mom here to celebrate with.I hope the day was graced by God in some special way, just for you.


  4. Juliana says:

    I knew Mothers Day was coming (I purchased flowers for my mom). I had forgotten the pain of church on Sunday however until I read this. Its the day we assume every women who has reached and/or passed childbearing age is a mother and celebrate motherhood as a woman crowing glory (right up there with marriage). Painful experience for those of us who have experienced neither and desired both.

    I like the idea of working in the nursery Fern – it lends something more productive to the day – and supportive as well…I may still declare tomorrow a pajama day and not leave the house however…I can always listen to the sermon on-line later and attempt to bypass the feelings of inadequacy…

    Liked by 1 person

    • Marilyn says:

      “Painful experience for those of us who have experienced neither and desired both. ”

      You point out another problem, one I have heard several people speak of. And what about the ones who can’t bring themselves to speak? That is what I think of. Thank you so much for chiming in on this, Juliana.


  5. Marilyn says:

    Don’t get me wrong, I am not against Mother’s Day. I think you all understand that.


    • Juliana says:

      Goodness yes! You have simply opened the door to a conversation. Its one that is good to have.

      I’ve appreciated the conversation that Dedria has at Jumping Tandem because it opens my eyes to a different view point and raises my awareness of things that I haven’t thought about or am unaware of because of my cultural position. This I think is very similar – if people don’t have experience with the different ways things like Mothers and Fathers Day can be painful then we can’t come alongside those that hurt.


  6. Marilyn says:

    In the end, I planted my garden, got into a book of poems by Linda Pastan and yes, I am going to church. I really love my church here in Louisville.


    • Juliana says:

      I ended up not going to church. I was going to and then I listened to the sermon preview. It was about restoring broken relationships. I decided I didn’t need to add my very broken relationship with my father to the rest of today at church. So I’ll listen later online and continue to ponder and pray about the safety of restoring that particular relationship when I’m not dealing with the rest of the emotions that come with today.

      Liked by 1 person

  7. Sharon says:

    I’m late boarding this one, but now that Mother’s Day is behind me, I am more prepared to comment without a tear-doused keyboard.

    My two sons have been estranged from me for 14 years now (not my choice).

    Last Friday, I discovered my first grand baby was born several days ago. I saw her sweet face on Facebook, and cried all weekend! So, I chose not to go to church because I couldn’t bear another Mother’s Day sermon. (I stayed away from social media, as well.)

    I think it is essential for us to recognize when we are muddling, and practice self-care. I also believe it is important to see when others are muddling and be alongside of them.

    Not all brokenness can be fixed, but the love expressed to those hurting is a balm that soothes.

    In saying that, I long for others to come alongside of me when I am muddling. I try to understand that there are some things people (family included) have difficulty talking about (estrangement being one of them), but it doesn’t keep me from hoping that people will get brave and show their love.

    Thankfully, a friend found the courage to approach me on Saturday because he could see I was hurting from the recent news of my grandbaby. He walked up to me, hugged me, told me he was sorry, and that he would pray for me. I was thankful for his willingness to offer me his compassion.

    I wrote a story about finding the courage. It was published at (in)courage last year. http://sharonagibbs.com/the-courage-to-say-hello/

    I, too, was once blind, but now I see.


    • Marilyn says:

      I TRULY feel the pain of discovering what should’ve been marvelous news by seeing it on Facebook. I will write to you privately, but just want to say here how much I appreciate you contributing to this discussion that is public. Our stories, even the painful ones, perhaps mostly the painful ones, help others feel less alone. Thank you!

      Liked by 1 person

Share your thoughts!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s