Avoid-The-Roses Day

Mother’s Day is still a day I’d rather just pass over. Mom died over ten years ago, and we’re deep in the waiting period of the adoption process, so Mother’s Day only emphasizes what I don’t have.

What I usually dread the most is going to a restaurant where they’re giving away roses to the mothers. If I take one, I feel like a fraud, so I usually find a way to sneak around the giver-of-the-roses and avoid the thing altogether.

And it seems like Mother’s Day is becoming bigger every year. I noticed that someone wished my husband a happy Mother’s Day this Sunday. What? It’s not like this is a real holiday…it’s not like wishing someone a Happy Thanksgiving or Merry Christmas. So can’t we avoid all the hype?

A friend of mine told me that at her former church, they gave out roses at the door to all the moms, and if your mom was alive you got a red rose, and if your mom was dead you got a white one. Hmmm. What a weird thing to do. It makes me picture the people entering the church one by one and saying, “Alive.” “Dead.” “Dead.” “Alive.”

In my Grandma’s church, they gave a rose to the oldest mother (who was my Grandma) and one to the youngest mother. I wonder if the youngest was sixteen? Fifteen? Just kidding, but to me that’s a weird tradition, too.

This Sunday, we went to a church service where they honored all the women. At first I was afraid they were going to ask all the mothers to stand, but instead, they said that all women are nurturers – all women have been mothers to someone at one point – so they asked all the women to stand. And we all got roses. That was nice. It left no question. I didn’t have to wonder if I was worthy.

Good. Now that’s over and I don’t have another Avoid-The-Roses Day for another year.