By: Neri Morris
I am surrounded by amazing mothers and I honour and respect each one of them for the way they love and give to their families.
But, to be honest, most holidays are hard in some way. I had a great day with the family on Sunday (that’s my Mum, my sister, and two gorgeous nieces in that pic there). We laughed, we chatted, we were illegal because we gave each other a huge hug after being apart for so long, it was truly a lovely day spent with my tribe. It wasn’t until I was driving home that an old friend joined me for the ride. A void seemed to open up inside me and I became acutely aware of all I was not and did not have.
I’ve spent most of the day just accepting how I’m feeling, not judging or berating myself, not expecting myself to feel something I don’t, and trying really hard not to get angry at God.
It got me thinking about other single girls out there. The ones who want to be mothers but aren’t. The ones who desire to be wives but are not. And I began to wonder how they got on over the weekend. So I wrote them a letter.
Hey Single Girl,
How’d you go on Sunday?
Was it as hard as you thought it would be?
I bet your Mum really loved having you there. Probably meant the world to her. You did a good thing.
How’d you go with the conversation? Did you zone out with all the kid talk? Yeah, me too. It’s really hard sometimes to be interested in a child’s sleeping pattern. Or the latest sporting achievement. Or understand the excitement over your nephew reaching a new level in the latest video game.
Or was it just another family lunch, celebrating your Mum? I bet she loved the gift you got her even though you know just you being there was gift enough.
Did you eat yummy food and laugh with the family? Did you smile at your Mum and thank her for all she has done for you?
Did you applaud all the mothers in the Mother’s Day service? Did you silently wish you were standing too? Or were you glad you didn’t have to?
Did you have to take a few minutes and excuse yourself so you could hide in the bathroom, needing to re-group and build up the strength again so you could pretend that being alone doesn’t bother you?
Or did you actually find it not as hard as you thought? Those cuddles from your nieces or nephews are pretty life-giving aren’t they, even if it presses ever so slightly on your heart.
Did you manage to dodge the questions about your love life? Or were you reminded yet again that your biological clock is ticking?
Did anyone ask about your work and want more than just “it’s fine” as a response? Did anyone stop and actually listen to what’s going on in your life?
Did you hide the way it pressed on your heart as you watched your niece or friend’s daughter climb into their mother’s lap and whisper “I love you Mum.”?
Was the drive home hard? Were the tears too much to see through?
Or were you just grateful for the family you do have? Were you able to hold your hope for tomorrow with grace for today?
Did you crawl into the empty bed wishing there were cold little feet craving for your warmth? Did you crawl into bed wishing the one you said “I do” to was lying there too?
Or did you stretch out and smile at the sweet silence that surrounded you?
However you spent this Mother’s Day, single girl, I hope that you had enough grace for yourself to feel how you feel, free of judgment or condemnation. I hope you were able to find joy in the moment. I hope you embraced those around you. But most of all, no matter what type of bed you crawled into at the end of the day, I hope you know that He sees it too. He sees the pain wrapped around the desire. He sees the strength you needed to muster. He sees the way you navigate those hard conversations. He sees the tears shed quietly in the car.
There may be pain today but there is always hope for tomorrow.
A single sister.
Article supplied with thanks to Neri Morris.
About the Author: Neri is a speaker and mentor focused on helping you have an authentic faith life.