It is strange that it is Mother's Day tomorrow.  Well, no, it is not strange, because Mother's Day happens every year, obviously.  It's just that this is the first Mother's Day in over ten years that I will have the opportunity to celebrate the occasion with my real mother.  For the whole of that motherless period, a mother is all I wanted, but now we are reunited and, despite the fact that I hate the commercialisation of such occasions, we should be able to enjoy the day together.  My mum's actually away so I am taking the opportunity to transform her garden and give her a whopping great, hopefully lovely, surprise.

I was browsing through quotes, as I do, and this one struck me: 'There is nothing to suggest that mothering cannot be shared by several people.' H R Schaffer.  I am lucky enough to have a couple of incredibly significant mother-figures in my life, without whom, I very much doubt I would be here today.  They are the most loving, kind, funny, generous, selfless, fantastic of people, that if I sung their praises all day, all week, all year, it would still not do them justice.  They have taught me so many valuable lessons, lessons which I will cherish and bear in mind for the rest of my life so that I can be care-free and happy, so that I can live.  And this is when another quote struck me: 'The art of mothering is to teach the art of living to children.'  Elaine Heffner.  I have never been taught, how to live, only to be subservient, to show deference, to be obedient, to be a clones, and thus, now, I am an obsequeious, painfully shy, worthless, seemingly arrogant being, always trying to please, and always failing.  Not good.

But my friends are helping to wean me out of this being.  I cannot wait to break out of this suffocating cocoon and emerge, a butterfly, soaring high and happy between silken sheets of blue skies under a golden-warm, nectar-sweet sun. 

Maybe then I will not feel so awkward calling my real mother 'Mum' or 'Mam' or 'Mummy' or anything mother-related after all these years of not being able to do so.  I have been so fixated on the idea that my mother would be the answer to all my problems.  But now I need to be realistic.  It is nice to have my mother back, it eases the guilt a tad, but by no means significantly.  I just cannot seem to shift this guilt which insists on weighing me down.  It is at times exhausting and I am so grateful I have two significant mother-figures to keep me going and I am so incredibly eternally grateful for all the support they are showing me, for always being there for me, and for always putting up with me, no matter how low I am.

Thus Mother's Day: I now think about it as not merely a day to celebrate love for a mother, but also think of all those out there who should absolutely not go forgotten, who act as mother-figures - a fairy godmother perhaps, or a fantastic friend.