This was the worst Mother's Day ever.

No gifts from my kids. No card from my husband. No break from routine.

The house was a mess and no one else wanted to help so I spent the morning scrubbing toilets and folding load after load of laundry.

Just like any other Sunday.

But it wasn't any other Sunday. This one was supposed to be special.

My husband wanted to rebuild the backyard fence so he spent the day in the yard cheerfully oblivious to my disappointment. I did my part, though, to guarantee the day's failure. I yelled at my kids when they refused to do their chores. I huffed at my husband when he sauntered through the kitchen ignoring the piles of dirty dishes that covered the counters.

By late afternoon, I gave up trying to find a silver lining and locked myself in my bedroom and cried.

Relief came, finally, as darkness fell and I put a pillow over my head and ended the miserable day in sleep.

I woke the next morning promising to put the horrible holiday behind me. I checked e-mails and saw three from women to whom I had sent cards the week before. Two are writers and mentors to me and to other women who write. Their e-mails told me how surprised and touched they had been to receive my cards. Their happiness at having received them made me smile.

The third e-mail came from an acquaintance that had placed for adoption the only child she'd ever given birth to. That was decades ago, but she’s talked with me about her son often, probably because my own two sons were adopted. I knew Mother's Day must be hard for her -- no woman ever forgets a child that had once been hers whether born to them or not. She, too, thanked me for thinking of her on Mother's Day and her gratitude put a lump in my throat.

When I returned home from work that day, I saw the envelope that had arrived in the mail a few days earlier. I absentmindedly opened it and was surprised to see a card there, this one from one of my son's birthmothers. The card said simply that she couldn't imagine her life without me in it.

I'm grateful to have her in my life, as well.

I'm grateful to all of them, the women, and the other mothers who reached out to me. Their notes of appreciation reminded me of the love that surrounds me every day. Love I too often take for granted. I took for granted the love of my kind husband and my adored sons on Mother's Day. That's why I let their disappointing performances hurt me so much. I shouldn't have let that happen. I should have taken myself out somewhere, enjoyed the day knowing their love was there whether they took me out for brunch on one particular Sunday or not.

It came a day late but my gratitude allowed me to put the happy back into Mother's Day.

By Laura-Lynne Powell

Labels: Laura-Lynne Powell

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