Yesterday was honestly the best Mother’s Day celebration I can remember. We went to spend the day with our family at the lake and had the best time talking and laughing and enjoying each other. It was simple and wonderful and I loved it.

Today has been good too. I’ve mostly rested – travel wipes me out – and now am up to celebrate Mother’s Day/Henry’s Birthday (oh yes, there will be pictures). I just made vegan mac n’ cheeze and grilled cheeze sammies and Sara has GF cupcakes in the works. It’s going to be fabulous.

Still, my feelings about Mother’s Day (in the big picture) are a mixed bag and this year threw in another wrinkle.

As I’ve written about before (last Mother’s Day), my biological mother abandoned my father and I when I was a toddler and that sting doesn’t go away. Mother’s Day when I was young was always particularly painful without her.

I had my sweet, sweet Grandmother though (living next door to us) and we were so close. Since she passed away in 2014, that has been a hard thing on this day too.

As an adult, though, I’ve been blessed when my dad married a wonderful lady, and, then later, when I married my husband, I also got the best mom I could have ever asked for too. I am so thankful for both of them on this day (and the rest of the year as well).

Another difficult thing that certainly isn’t a secret but I have never written about is losing my boys. My twin sons, Aidan and Bailey, were stillborn due to complications with my pregnancy and I became septic and almost died myself. It was a terrible time. I don’t speak of it often but I never forget them or their birthday or fail to think of them at holidays (or any other time). This day seems to me to be a reminder of loss.

However, I also have been blessed with three healthy children who are so nearly grown and for that I am so thankful. I celebrate that on this day.

The wrinkle this year is that the relationship with one of them has become quite strained and there is nothing I can do about it. This day, having not even heard a word from that child, is so painful in that regard.

So, Mother’s Day isn’t really wrapped in a pretty pink bow for me. I wish it were.

(Father’s Day is my jam: I have my dad who raised me, I have the most amazing husband who is so good to us (and I only wish I could do bigger and more for him), and I have his dad who I just love so much too. I’m all over Father’s Day.)

But, still, maybe this is what is supposed to be. Maybe God can use all of this.

I don’t write all of this to be a bummer. I’m not sitting and feeling sorry for myself. Quite the contrary – I’m about to get myself ready for an awesome Beauty and the Beast Doggie 5th birthday party (and, if you don’t think Henry is one of my babies too, you REALLY don’t know me).

I write because I know I’m not the only one who struggles with this day, and, whether it is the loss of a mother or child or grandmother or facing infertility or whatever other pain they are dealing with, I want people to know that they are not alone.

I want them to know that it’s okay if this day isn’t pretty pink bow wrapped for them either or Hallmark approved. It’s okay to skip church today (the Mother’s Day service can be an arrow to the chest of someone in pain) and watch movies in bed all day. It’s okay to do whatever makes them feel best today and not worry about.

Most of all, I want them to know that they are seen and cared for and loved.

That may well be the purpose in the pain.

Be well, everybody. Be good to each other.

Grace and blessings.