For some reason, Mother's Day made me a little depressed this year. Really, I've been on and off depressed since January so it being Mother's Day may have not really been the cause, but as it spun in my mind, there were two reasons:
A. My mother. I think I am purposefully distancing myself from that woman, and although it doesn't make me sad like I miss her, it makes me a little sad. Also, because I only remembered Mother's Day the day before it happened, I forgot to send her a card, and I felt guilty all day, but I decided the guilt was easier to deal with than actually calling her. I don't think I've ever really sent cards in the past, but now that I'm distancing myself, it seems important to keep up with gestures like cards so nobody notices that I'm not making phone calls or coming to holidays. (Not that anybody calls me, and if they did, I'd let it go to voice mail because I need to build up to that kind of thing.)
B. My cynicism. I can't deal with greeting card holidays, and although I know that Mother's Day has ancient roots, I have it grouped in the greeting card section of my mind. I do well with the Christian holidays because they more or less align with the seasons in ways that feel right to me. That said, Easter was way too early this year, and I could have used Mother's day as my spring time bacchanal, but the idea didn't occur to me until after I had gotten all depressed about it. Sometimes, I wish I wasn't so cynical... that I could just take a day and not over think it.
The kids found out it was Mother's Day, and they all picked flowers, and that was really the highlight.
And the next night, we had steak and crab and friends over for dinner, and it's nice to know that people will come eat our food and mull over life even though the house was disgustingly dirty and I hadn't showered in ages.