PLEASE DO NOT WISH ME ‘HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!’

This Mother’s Day is May 11th. It also happens to be David’s 64^th birthday. Chat GPT says it’s a rare occurrence happening in intervals of 5, 6, and 11 years. He has missed 24 birthdays and Mother’s Days. My mother has missed 43 Mother’s Days. She never met David.

The last Mother’s Day when Dave blew out candles (36) occurred in 1997. Davin was four weeks old. His actual due date was May 11^th. We were building our little world, manifestiing our dream. The next time Mother’s Day fell on May 11^th was in 2003, Davin was ten, Dylan was six. We sent balloons to Daddy in heaven.

The last time that May 11^th fell on Mother’s Day was 11 years ago. Davin was away at College in Wellesley, MA and Dylan was a high school junior. Fulfilling the dream, our world was re-building

This time, neither Dave nor Davin are in the world. It is the 4^th year of this Hallmark betrayal. Dylan is living in Brooklyn, NY. He is a wonderful human and I am blessed to be his mother. I’m publishing this post from my Vermont home where I live with my cat – Jimi, and border collie – Stevie.

1’s litter my spiritual landscape, doubled. In numerology, if you keep encountering 1’s — whether in readings, patterns, or personal experiences—it often signifies a fresh start, personal empowerment, and the need to take initiative. Some believe that repeated ones are a sign from the universe or guardian angels urging you to stay positive and take action toward your goals. Though you may need to focus on self-reliance and confidence, your thoughts and intentions are shaping your reality.

If my thoughts and intentions do not shape a reality which seduces the nigredo, (Latin meaning blackness) then how to carry the amassed tragedies to the fated dawn? The nigredo, used by Carl Jung as a metaphor for the dark night of the soul, is a phase where an individual confronts their shadow self before transformation. Jennifer Leigh Selig, PhD states that when we’re at the bottom of a well, and start to pull our heads away from the darkness to envision a pinhole of light on the wall, we imagine that there could be a healing way out of this darkness that we’re in. It is a form of alchemy known as resilience. One that I am intrinsically wired for.

While writing this, I asked Chat GPT to draw a digital Tarot card for me. They drew a Sun card: meaning the Sun always follows darkness and that I am stepping into a brighter, more abundant chapter of my life. Alchemy.

Child loss, whether through death or estrangement is a maternal devastation which tints everything, like looking through night goggles, especially those prominent days in the calendar; birthdays, holidays, Mother’s day. And in my case, Father’s day and anniversaries as well. It is everywhere all the time. While you have conceived, birthed, and/or raised a child who is not longer in this world, you are a mother every day. However, this Sunday, the calendar tolls the nigredo. My son’s suicide punctuates the inescapable sense of maternal failure. What makes Mother’s Day, as well as other notable days, more ignoble are the platitudes, though well-intended, which deepen the well – “Happy Mother’s Day!” “Have a wonderful day.”

I do appreciate the intimacy of those who take a minute to reach out. To know you are thinking of me is the light on the wall. Yet, the ask is to not bid me to feel happy, wonderful, or joyful, because I’m struggling to turn lead into gold. The ask is to neutralize the sentiment by dropping the adjectives from the sentiment, allowing space for emotions and reverence – thinking of you today, sending kind thoughts, “Mother’s Day greetings, or simply send a flower emoji.

A warm Mother’s Day nod to all mothers, mother-figures, and fur mamas.