I hate May. In fact May might be my least favorite month of the entire year. For me, it brings on this odd depression that leaves me slogging miserably through the day, and sometimes I don't even immediately know why, but then I remember. It's mothers day. It's my mother's birthday, but she's not here anymore. It's been 12 years now, and honestly, it kind of snuck up on me this time.
Usually there's an immense, looming feeling of dread, and I become upset, retreating into myself for what my brain feels is for my own good, but this year I was so busy that the date passed me by. Upon realizing this, somehow I am not relieved. In fact, I feel guilty for not remembering, for not being upset. Is it right to do that to myself after 12 years? I don't know. However, even if I had forgotten the date in question, there's no denying that there's still some burning, underlying hatred of this month that never fully goes away. I don't seem to have these feelings any other time. Christmas is delightful. I decorate the house, I cook recipes that we made together, and I carry on our traditions. I don't feel any sadness, even though it's a time meant to be shared with those you care about, and I have an almost unbelievable track record of losing those people in one way or another.
Maybe mother's day is so special, because it is so painfully specific. I used to work in retail, and of course every holiday is prepared for months in advance. That means for a prolonged period of time I was subjected to banners, cakes, balloons, gifts, cards and everything else constantly reminding me everyday of what I no longer have. While I of course would never deny anyone their right to celebrate what they love, I also can not deny that it made me want to crawl into a hole and not come out until winter.
This strangely gives me further guilt, I know she would not want me to feel that way. She'd tell me to quit this non sense, and to go about my business, to be happy, to chase dreams, to live well, and to be healthy. Well, I guess I did more or less, even if it took me a very long time to do so. I've accomplished a lot this year, and for the first time, I am truly happy. A thing which for a long time, I never thought I could be. I almost seemed incapable, but it has happened. You probably couldn't tell, because I'm crying right now, but I swear that I am.
I have a partner whom I love very much, I've finally found a job which I enjoy, my dreams are on fire, not in the least fizzled or pushed aside like so many I know, and if I can do this, then maybe one day I will no longer hate May. No, instead we will have an understanding. The month of May will continue on as it always has, I will take a brief pause on Mother's Day, but it will not hold on to me. I will wave it goodbye, like it's an old friend that only comes to visit once in a while, and I'll think of you. Only the good things. Only the good times. Only everyday that I knew you, however short that time may have been.