About 20 years ago my husband asked me an interesting question: “Would you like to go see Spiderman for Mother’s Day?” I think my response surprised him: “Spiderman for Mother’s Day … that sounds good!” So, when Sunday rolled around, we sat next to each other in the theater and watched Toby McGuire’s Spiderman. His question, my response, and our unconventional Mother’s Day celebration reveals something about my story: Mother’s Day is different for us.
A few months before my husband’s Spiderman question, my precious mom, died in a car accident. Our lives were changed in an instant; I knew the world would never be the same. My mom was my first best friend. She taught me how to laugh and have fun. She taught me how to sew (but I wasn’t as good as her, so I quit). Mom taught me how to cook. From my mom I learned that church is important, and prayer is necessary. Mom modeled how to take care of a family and make sacrifices for them. My mom taught me how to love and how to be gracious to others, loving without thinking about whether or not they deserve that love. My mom wasn’t perfect, but she was pretty darn close. I wanted to be my mom.
As I look back, the grief that followed in those days, weeks, and months after mom’s death is still a blur. Even twenty years after her passing, it’s still hard to think about her not being here with us. There are still days, two decades later, when that pain feels fresh, and the unfairness of that tragedy really hurts. Mother’s Day has tended to be one of those difficult days, because it draws all that heartache to the surface. So, twenty years ago we went to see Spiderman on Mother’s Day, several years ago we started going to a rabbit show on Mother’s Day weekend, and this year we took the Sunday off to spend it at Long Island Village with our family, celebrating my mother-in-law who’s going through a difficult season of grief herself.
The Psalmist says, “Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning (Psalm 30:5). I must admit that my tears for my mom have lasted many nights, but I have also experienced many mornings that have brought unexpected joy. I love my husband and my children and enjoy celebrating my day with them, but it still makes me sad. I miss Mom and I hope she knows that we are ok and how much we love her and try to keep her memory alive for our kids. Mother’s Day makes me sad, but somehow, I make it to Monday morning and God’s joy comes as I get to spend time doing unconventional things with my family who loves me.
Today’s devotional was prepared by Lisa Parker who has been a member of FBC Weslaco for going on 15 years since her family joined the church in 2008. She is a daughter, a wife, and a mother. She cared for her Gran until her Gran passed away this past December at the age of 92. Lisa grew up on a family farm in the Delta Area of the Rio Grande Valley where she now lives with her husband and four children. She taught 4th grade and preschool for 5 years before becoming a stay-at-home mom. Lisa enjoys making mosaics and doing DIY projects around the house. She also happens to be married to our pastor.