Another Mother’s Day

Every Mother’s Day I want to crawl in a hole and stay there until the annual demonstration of love and gratitude toward the woman who MADE you is over and done with.

There are many -too many- like me, who never felt that love, but remember the beatings and the drunken rage. Children like me, who carry the burden of the past around for years, decades, even a lifetime.

Boys and girls who got raised by a mom who never should have been one. Kids who didn’t have a lucky hand at the birth roulette.

I wish Mother’s Day would also be a reminder that mothering does not always come naturally. There is no school for parenting, there are no classes to learn caring. The schoolhouse of love is none existing, but would be full with students if there just would be one.

Judges would command mom’s to go there, just like the order community service to the ones where there still is hope.

Another Mother’s Day and we don’t mention reality. Not every mom is a good mother. Many leave scares and memories that haunt the ones who had to live through it. Mom’s who looked away when their children were abused right in front of them, mother’s who let their children starve -of food and love- because that’s all they ever knew.

Many children in foster homes and orphanages around the world don’t celebrate today. For many, it’s a sad day remembering the mom who never wanted them -or should have had them.

The images of the drunken woman, the junkie controlled by her addiction, the yelling and screaming monster we had to call mom doesn’t fit into our perfect world. There is always a dark side, but we seldom show it. Things we don’t like to see or talk about stay hidden.

Happy Mother’s Day to all who have a reason to celebrate it. To the rest of us, it’s just another day.

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Why I hate mothers Day