‘Twas the Night Before Mother’s Day
(for mothers of estranged adult children)
by Sheri McGregor
The night before Mother’s Day, second Sunday in May,
TV and radio remind of the day.
Rose bouquets, gift cards, and visits galore—
We’re shown family perfection, happy kids at the door.
But that’s not the reality estranged mothers see.
Since our rejection, we may not even know who to be.
In church should we stand up as all mothers do?
Or sit there, embarrassed? We might cry: Boo hoo.
Should we buy our own presents? Pretend we’re not sad?
Stay home with the curtains drawn? (It won’t be so bad.)
We could throw a big party; greet the day with a cheer.
Or turn off our cell phones; avoid calls we may fear.
Will that child we birthed so long ago phone?
Or will the adult we don’t know send a message we’ll bemoan?
We know from experience it’s just words on a screen.
Amid all the silence, it may seem just plain mean.
On this day and always treat yourself well. Let sadness go.
Enjoy others who love you, and do let you know.
Make a card for your own mom, and give her a hug.
Thank a motherly figure—at her heartstrings tug.
The day honors mothers for the gift they once gave.
For the diapers and sleep loss, for the life’s way they paved.
Honor your own self, on this day and all.
Do whatever feels best, and then heed the call—
Good woman, you’re worthy! Get up and have fun.
There’s life to be lived. You’re nowhere near done.
Get out and smile. Find people, find purpose, and joy will abound.
It’s beyond the next corner. Do look around.
Tomorrow the sun rises. Moon and stars too.
There’s hope and there’s healing. What will you do?
The world is an oyster, but its shell you must crack.
Search for the pearl. Tell the world, “I am back!”