've been in Covid isolation for the last seven days with two kids and a cat.
My wife has paid her seven days to the Covid gods already, so she’s out galavanting about in the world again, while I’m stuck inside for a little longer. Could be worse, I guess. I could be isolating without two kids and a cat. Imagine that.
You know what really sucks, though? I just happened to get Covid and start my isolation seven days before Mother's Day. I literally regain my freedom THE DAY AFTER. So, Katie isn’t getting her usual breakfast of hash browns, homemade beans and mushrooms. All we have in the fridge is one zucchini and a half empty jar of mayonnaise. Hardly a feast fit for a wonderful mum like her.
Fear not, however, the kids and I broke out the paints and got crafty with some A4 printer paper.
A handprint from Norah and some abstract modernist strokes from Elio, and we had ourselves a Mother's Day gift.
I had planned to give it to Katie the next morning with her Zucchini and mayo breakfast, but Elio decided he would run over to its hiding place and give it to her straight away. Just couldn’t wait, I guess.
My kids are pretty lucky. They have the most caring, intelligent and supportive mother on the planet. They may not appreciate it now, but when they’re older, they will see it just like I do.
I stayed at home today while my daughter slept and Katie and Elio went grocery shopping. I was thinking about her while she was gone, partly because I was pissed off I couldn’t take her out for Mother's Day, and partly because she’s giving our kids what I no longer have.
My mum decided she would rather not be a part of our lives over a year ago. If you haven’t read that story yet, you can do that here. The whole thing was really hard and has left me not only nostalgic for a time that may not have even existed, but sad on days like this. The tricky part is that she is still around, just fifteen minutes away, probably reeling with misguided anger over who she thinks I am.
Days like this often evoke sadness over mothers passed, relationships lost and reconciliations incomplete. Everyone has their pain and deserves to have it acknowledged. Sending my love to all that are struggling today.
My situation is put into perspective as I think about an ex-girlfriend who lost her mum to suicide. The second hand pain in her eyes is burned into my memory. I sometimes feel guilty about being sad about my situation. She’s still alive, at least.
I wonder if that will change when she’s not.
With that said, enjoy the mum or mother figure you have in your life, not just today, but every day.
They truly are a special breed.
Happy Mother's Day.