‘There are some days that hold no real joy for me’

The last 12 months have been great for raising the voice of the over-60s community at Starts at 60, something we feel strongly about doing. During the next few weeks we are celebrating the blogs that resonated with readers the most throughout the year. This blog is one of our Top 30 blogs for 2018.

With Mother’s Day just around the corner, one can’t help but notice the influx of flowery cards placed ‘front and centre’ in newsagents and shops around the place. There are advertisements for perfume, pretty outfits, flower deliveries and even household items for the mums out there. There are sentimental statements like ‘Mum is worth every scent’ or ‘Give mum the gift she deserves’ or ‘Celebrate a bond that’s precious…’

I have not had the pleasure of a naturally loving daughter. On the other hand, her children — my two grandsons — are the loves of my life. When I need them, they roll their eyes, and say “Wait a minute”, but they are there and I know I can rely on them. They show me the love they should have been be able to show their mother.

I have “waited a minute” for more than 40 years, since my daughter was born, for her to to be loving like other children, but she is not. She is beautiful, intelligent, artistic, clever and creative. She only knows how to show emotion when she sees others doing it and she emulates, but she does not learn.

While Mother’s Day can make some people feel loving and celebratory, it can make others — like me — feel sad or angry, even confused. I never got Mother’s Day hugs. I didn’t even get birthday presents. Yet, out out of the blue my daughter would say a loving word, give me a gift she had made at school, or a pair of tiny diamond earrings she bought on the spur of the moment. Looking at her nobody would know, but in between the threats and the anger and the out of control behaviour, this was how I knew she loved me. The doctors kept telling me there was nothing wrong with her.

I love my daughter dearly, even though I can go years without knowing where she is or if she is all right. Even though I also fear the day she will turn up on my doorstep again because she is destructive mentally and that would affect the boys, I am always glad to hear from her.

Mother’s Day holds no real joy for me, it is just another day.

How do you feel about Mother’s Day? Is it a day you celebrate, and if so, how?

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