The question many bloggers face from time to time is whether to post their thoughts or share their experience when neither the thought nor the experience is particulary pretty or positive or uplifting or whimsical, or inspiring. Today when faced with that particular conundrum, I decided that I would post my thoughts and experience, pretty or not because this little blog is after all my own creation.

There are several holidays or Special Days on the American calendar that I don’t particularly embrace or relish ~ Valentines Day, or as I usually refer to as Stupid VD day ~ St. Patrick’s Day (I don’t like the pinching deal) ~ Mother’s Day. Today is the latter.

I think some adoptees might understand my non-relishing of this day. This day, after all, is meant to honor and acknowledge our mothers, our ommas, our first mothers, our second, third or fourth mothers; and when one does not have that particular longed for connection with their omma or mother, the day can sting. In my life, most Mother’s Days have passed without undue angst or sadness creeping into my conscious psyche. Not so today.

I woke this morning with a yearning in my chest, where my heart was beating out a steady thrum of longing for my first omma and regret that my relationship with my adoptive mama could have been different. Later in the morning, when my daughter called to wish me, her first and only mother, a Happy Mom’s Day, the tears sprang to my eyes. I let them fall, after I had wished her the same ~ my daughter, mother of three. I let the tears just spring up and rode the wave of longing and missing and wishing for my mother’s embrace. The wave washed up on the shore of today and has left me feeling a little bereft.

I have lived long enough to know that this wave is just part of living and remind myself that I have ridden out much bigger storms and choppier seas than today’s spring barrage. Still, my thoughts and experience are not pretty and I don’t think there is any worth in trying to gussy them up as life is what it is and the longing in my heart, simply a strand of the tapestry of my life.