My mum died in December 2023, after a brief period of living with a terminal cancer diagnosis.
Mother’s Day was a fixed point in time in our relationship, along with so many other points on the calendar. One of a series of moments during the year that marked the passage of the seasons, and moments when we’d stop and take stock.
“We understand this can be a difficult time of year. Please click (here) to opt out of our Mother’s Day promotional messaging”
Clicking on the links to reduce the clutter in my inbox is easy. It seems that most companies assume that if Mother’s Day was difficult previously, this year probably will be too. In the run up to Mother’s Day 2024 I opted out when any company offered me the opportunity. This makes the digital realm mostly a safe space. There’s no constant reminders that my mum has gone: that I’ll never again be standing in a branch of Card Factory trying to find the card that feels right for her, and our relationship.
Mother’s Day is an impersonal personal occasion. It’s a day that isn’t just “mine” or “yours’”, but “everyone’s”. We are all expected to make a fuss of our mums.
When we’re young, we celebrate our mum with home-made cards. If mum is lucky, we’ll have managed to stay within the lines with our colouring in. We might also attempt to make ‘breakfast in bed’ – a cliche of many a comedy routine with fathers demonstrating ‘hilarious’ incompetence and mum ending up far from her apparently dreamed of ‘day of leisure’. But I’m not here to bemoan the patriarchal problems that lead to women still being expected to carry the burden of household responsibilities.
However if capitalism is an extension of the patriarchy, then I am here to take that to task for its complete failure to consider quite how many people have bad or mixed feelings about the day.
Historically known as ‘Mothering Sunday’, it’s now known by the snappier, and less subtextually religious ‘Mother’s Day’. A celebration which used to be entrenched in Christianity, and a provision for servants to travel home to their ‘mother church’ should be of less relevance in an increasingly secular society.
The corporations that want to extract money from you are certainly pleased that the focus has shifted, from a day marking the half-way point of Lent, to one celebrating your mother. That this only expands the celebration beyond those of the Christian faith can hardly be a coincidence.
The distance that comes from no longer being involved in this day does provide an opportunity to see the rampant consumerism that this ‘celebration’ has become.
The arrival in the shops of the cheerful reminders seems to get earlier each year, and seems now to slot into the calendar from February 15, to whenever Mother’s Day happens – a movable feast thanks to the specific vagaries of the Christian Calendar.
Whilst the digital clutter can be reduced to almost nil, the real world is not so gracious. It’s impossible to opt out of the displays that seem to be in every shop window.
From the supermarkets with their displays of cavity inducing chocolates (but tomorrow they’ll be telling mum she needs to be on a diet) to overpriced flowers that will be significantly reduced the following day, the capitalist requirement to wring every penny possible out of a population still largely struggling under the ongoing ‘cost of living crisis’ it feels particularly galling when you definitely won’t be having any part of it.
Whilst ‘my mum died’ is deemed an acceptable reason to not enjoy the day, Mother’s Day isn’t just difficult for those of us in that situation. From the people who are estranged from their mothers, to those who, for whatever reason, have never known who their mother is, the constant reminder of what you don’t have can be distressing.
There’s an assumption that everyone lives in a ‘perfect’ family of “mum; dad; two to four children”, with all the implied Compulsory Heterosexuality suggested by that notion. What if your family doesn’t include a dad? What if there are two mums? What if you live with a grandparent, or an aunt, or an older sister?
What if, in an increasing reality, there’s a step-mum involved, and, counter to all the fairy tales and Disney movies, she isn’t evil? What if she loves you, and you love her? Maybe it’s possible for people who aren’t biologically related to form a relationship that we’d assume was ‘biological parent and child’ if we didn’t know otherwise?
The original Christian celebration actually understood this day as an allegory, and one of the Bible readings traditionally used in Sunday Services on Mothering Sunday specifically urges childless women to both celebrate and be celebrated. But capitalism won’t allow for such nuance.
Mother’s Day can also be trying for those who have a shaky relationship with their biological mum, but who feel the need to go along with the façade of celebration, in the name of family harmony. The need to preserve your own mental health must be disregarded whilst you spend time with a relative who, despite the familial link, may not have any real understanding of who you are as a person. This is especially the case if you are queer, and it’s not safe for you to be ‘out’ when you spend time with your family.
It can be hard to be open about how little you enjoy this enforced celebration. After all, ‘everyone loves their mum’. If you don’t, then it must be you who is wrong.
Like Christmas, which ‘everyone enjoys’, the truth of Mother’s Day is very different, for very many reasons for those who aren’t able to feel joy on this one Sunday in March. I guess that at least in 2025, we can be thankful that there’s one hour less of it.
Featured Image credit: George Dolgikh
