Love in the Time of Corona

Happy quarantine day 39754836923 y'all.

Mother's Day weekend is upon us. This holiday is one I had no idea was so triggering for so many until I wrote this post on the subject matter two years ago. Motherhood, the lack of our motherhood, the loss of our mothers, our mothers not meeting our expectations, us not meeting the expectations of ours mothers, etc. is very emotional and potentially carries immense hurt, joy, fear, love.

But the greatest of these is love.

In Untamed, Glennon Doyle writes,

"Parents love their children. I have met no exceptions. Love is a river, and there are times when impediments stop the flow of love. Mental illness, addictions, shame, narcissism, fear passed down by religious and cultural institutions--these are boulders that interrupt love's flow.

"Your parent--your sister, your friend, the one who couldn't love you--her love was impeded. That love was there--swirling, festering, vivacious in its desperation for release. It was there, it is there, all for you. That love exists. It just couldn't get past the boulder."

This is something I did not believe until recently. I'm sure I'm not alone in having deemed myself unlovable or the love not existing rather than there being a boulder in the way. It's so much easier to vilify the ones who've hurt us than to release the situation from our hands entirely. It was really never ours to carry.

How others love you speaks only about their ability to love and not about how lovable you are. 

This is applicable to all interpersonal encounters, including the well-intentioned folk who ask when you'll finally have kids, the oblivious well wishers who have no idea your pregnancy was unplanned, those who don't even acknowledge that this is your first Mother's Day since your own has passed.

We never mean to hurt our people. And yet there is so much hurt.

We won't all become mothers, but each of us is a daughter. I am going into this Mother's Day with a heart posture of gratitude for the one who carried me in her belly for nine months, and in her heart ever since. She hasn't loved me perfectly, but that was never going to be possible. The love is there and has always been, and the boulder gets smaller each time I let go of the middle schooler in me who couldn't understand any of that.

I so truly am with you this weekend, regardless of what your mothering situation looks like. Celebrate, don't celebrate, do whatever you need to commemorate or simply get through this Hallmark holiday. I hope you feel seen and loved and appreciated, and that the mommas in your life feel the same--from six feet apart.

Happy Mother's Day.

Love,
Ashley

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PS- I hope you caught it, but just in case the title reference is to Love in the Time of Cholera.

"She had never imagined that curiosity was one of the many masks of love."