**Re-post**
The trouble with Mother’s Day is that it can’t be avoided. You can’t hide from it. The buildup begins weeks before the day. From television commercials to ads for gifts and restaurants, you just can’t avoid having Mother’s Day in your face.
Then, there is the day itself. “Happy Mother’s Day!” is the common greeting. Well, no, it isn’t a happy Mother’s Day and I don’t think it ever will be. But I can’t blame people for saying it. How could they know my secret, awful pain?
When my son died, it threw my identity into crisis. For the past 21 years my primary job was to be a mom to my only child. It took a lot of perseverance and love to raise him right. Now that he is gone, what is my focus? Am I still a mom? What do I say to people who ask me if I have children? I’m still working on these questions.
When difficult days come up like the anniversary date of Nico’s death or his birthday, I try to ignore the significance of the day. I guess it’s a kind of denial. I have some resentment about these days. They come whether I’m ready for them or not and sometimes that makes me angry. It’s like watching a torpedo come at you in slow motion. You can’t escape it, you’re not sure what to expect, but it’s probably not going to be good. You’re forced to deal with your emotions on the calendar’s schedule instead of your own.
I guess that’s part of working through the grief process; learning to deal with the loss when you’d really rather not think about it, but are forced to.