Summary

The author, Darcy Thiel, reflects on a Mother's Day filled with mixed emotions, where despite receiving love and gifts from some friends and her daughter Emily, she feels deeply hurt by the neglect and lack of appreciation from her sons Colin, Frankie, and Matthew.

Abstract

Darcy Thiel recounts her recent Mother's Day experience, which was marked by a stark contrast between the kindness shown by friends and her daughter, and the indifference from her sons. While she is grateful for the thoughtful gestures from those who care, she cannot help but feel the sting of being ignored by her own children, which is emphasized on a day meant to celebrate motherhood. Despite her attempts to connect with her sons, they fail to acknowledge her, leaving her to spend the day alone and feeling invisible. The author expresses her frustration and anger at the lack of reciprocity from her children, questioning whether a holiday like Mother's Day only serves to highlight the absence of appreciation and love from her sons.

Opinions

The author deeply appreciates the gestures of love from her friends and daughter Emily, which provide some solace amidst the disappointment.
She feels that her sons' behavior on Mother's Day, particularly Colin and Frankie's, is hurtful and indicative of a broader pattern of neglect and disregard.
The author believes that her sacrifices as a single mother, including watching her granddaughter for nine hours each week, are not acknowledged or appreciated by her children.
She is particularly upset with her son Matthew for his lack of gratitude and for blaming her for his daughter's minor injury, which she feels is an unreasonable expectation.
The author is conflicted, feeling both love for her children and anger at their treatment of her, especially on Mother's Day.
She questions the purpose of Mother's Day when it serves to underscore the lack of appreciation from her children, despite her lifelong dedication to them.
The author is considering the difficulty of continuing to be a supportive parent and grandparent without receiving any acknowledgment or love in

A Charlie Brown Mother’s Day

Which isn’t a good thing

During the Charlie Brown Christmas special, Charlie Brown says how he knows no one likes him, but wonders why there has to be a holiday to emphasize that fact. He laments his empty mailbox and sarcastically thanks his “friends” for the Christmas cards they don’t send him.

I can’t say that Mother’s Day is like that entirely for me. I had several friends who went out of their way over the weekend to let me know I am loved. I got a hanging plant, a dozen pink roses, chocolate strawberries, and perfume from various friends that stopped by.

My daughter Emily called from Georgia Saturday night to wish me a Happy Mother’s Day and said a gift would be arriving on Tuesday. She always remembers and does very thoughtful things for me.

I start with those positive things because I truly am grateful for them. Sometimes though, people say things about how lucky I am to have good friends and that I should always focus on that.

In fact, I wrote about an amazing Mother’s Day years ago called “Holidays”.

But what people fail to realize, is that even when a person is deeply grateful for gifts in their lives, that doesn’t take away from the fact that other people hurt them.

Having great friends doesn’t make it hurt less when another friend hurts you deeply. Having a daughter that loves you, doesn’t take away the sting of your other three boys that pretty much ignore your existence.

About a week ago, Colin (age 31, by the way) approached me and asked what I wanted for Mother’s Day. I basically told I didn’t need a material present. What I wanted is their (Colin and Frankie, age 12) time. I said I wanted to go out to eat with them.

Colin then said he was letting me know in advance because my friends tend to take over holidays. Huh. We will never, ever, ever agree on that one. Colin and Frankie insist that my support system is around too much and makes them uncomfortable. I insist that my support system is around because the kids ignore and hurt me repeatedly. I will believe that’s the truth till my grave.

I approached the boys a couple of days ago and asked them what their plans were for me. I told them I would stay home all day if they actually wanted to do something with me. We could ride bikes, play games. Do anything at all. But if they were going to act like they hated spending time with me, or if they were going to ignore me, then I would be happy to make plans with other people who like to hang out with me.

Frankie said if we went to HIS favorite restaurant to eat rather than the one I had chosen, then he would be able to have a good attitude while we were out.

Mother’s Day went exactly as I thought it would. I don’t know how you can be disappointed when you know in advance how people are going to treat you, but I manage it all the time.

It still cuts me to the core.

Anyone who knows me (and this most definitely includes my children) knows that I hate being alone. I have to do it most of the time and I’ve learned to live with it.

Is it too much to ask that ONE day of the year I’m not reminded that I’m a widow?

Frankie overslept so he wasn’t awake to go to church with me. So off I went to church by myself on Mother’s Day.

Why should today be any different?

I came home and sat for awhile listening to Frankie and Colin in the living room. They were hanging out together as always, talking, laughing having a blast together. I finally went to bed to at least be a room apart from the loneliness that I felt.

I got up and asked Frankie to walk in the woods with me and the dog. His response? No, I’m good. So off I go alone, just like every day.

Why should today be any different?

At 5 PM we went to Frankie’s favorite restaurant. As expected, not one word was said to me the entire meal. Not much was said at all, but when Frankie talked it was, “Colin, look at this. Colin, listen to that. Colin, what does your fortune cookie say?”

And I just sat there, completely and utterly invisible. Totally fucking ridiculous.

We got in the car and I thanked them for buying dinner. Frankie then said Happy Mother’s Day for the first time all day. In fact, it was the first thing he had even said to me all day.

I came home and went to bed at 5:45. Why would I stay up? At 6:15 Colin came into the room and said he forgot to give me the card. It was signed by the two of them and there was a gift card. I thanked him. I’m glad they at least did something, but I had made it clear before today that what I needed was to feel some sort of love. Some sort of relationship with them. I didn’t hear from them for the rest of the night.

They hung out together in the other room, enjoying each other’s company.

Now, what about Matthew? He is 28 years old and lives locally. I watch his daughter for nine hours every week. I’ve spent a lifetime of him only talking to me or acknowledging me when he needs me for something. I love my granddaughter, which is what I keep telling myself. That’s why I watch her.

The kids have no idea whatsoever what it means for a single mother with literally five jobs to sacrifice nine hours a week on a business day for them. I know because they have never picked her up once and said thank you. Never once.

I do, however, hear about how disappointed Matthew is in the poor care I give his daughter when they find out she had scratched her own face when she was at my house. Of course, in all fairness to me, I didn’t realize that trimming the baby’s nails now falls as a grandparent duty rather than a parental one.

So Mother’s Day came and went without a card. Without a gift. Without a phone call. Without a text. Nothing from Matthew and his wife. I’m not even sad. I’m pissed. So beyond angry, it isn’t even funny.

Yes, thank you to Emily and to all my friends who love me. Nevertheless, it was a Charlie Brown Mother’s Day. A day that is supposed to be a day to honor the woman in your life who dedicates her time, energy, and countless moments of agony and worry over the intense love she pours out on her kids.

For me? It was a day to be reminded that no matter how good of a mom I tried to be, I missed the boat. Most of my kids are selfish and thoughtless. They embarrass me. It’s getting harder and harder to keep taking the high road and being a rocking parent and grandparent with no reciprocity in return.

I know my kids don’t appreciate me. Do we really need a holiday to emphasize it?

I’m Darcy Thiel. I utilize my professional and personal experiences to increase my understanding and compassion to help others. I am a Licensed Mental Health Counselor, Adult Planning Specialist, End of Life Doula, and author. Feel free to check out my profile to hear more.