the next best thing

Yesterday was mother's day and for the first time in eleven years, I wasn't sad. Of course I miss my mother, like I miss her every day. But I was so much closer to her yesterday than any other year I spent curled up in my corner afraid to look at all those people buying flowers for their mothers. I always thought the only time I would ever enjoy mother's day again would be when I would become a mother. Turns out I just had to change perspectives. 

I woke up drowned in kisses from my Parisian which immediately put a smile on my face. Then I went to the spa to enjoy an hour-long facial something where they put cream after cream on your face and massage your head and all you have to do is lie there and close your eyes and enjoy it --if I can't send my mother to the spa, why don't I just treat myself to it? 

Then I called my sister, and unfortunately, she was not in the same mood as me, so I decided to take her out to lunch. There's this adorable new diner in Mar Mikhael I knew she would love and we stuffed ourselves with burgers and fries and I spotted her smile. If I can't take my mother out to lunch in a place named after the diner in Grease (one of her favorite movies) then taking my sister is the next best thing.

She then took me to a place called Karout, where you buy anything you can think of for very reasonable prices and we spent two hours there buying things for this crazy brunch I'm throwing on Sunday. It was fun because it was the kind of outing I would love to do with my mom and it just so happens that it's also great to do with my sis. When we left, we got sort of lost and had no idea where we were, got stuck in terrible traffic, and I started getting worried that we would never make it on time to visit my mother at the cemetary. And sure enough... three minutes later, we find ourselves across the street from it!

Later that day, we drove up, my brother, my sister and I, to Baadat, where my aunt lives. You see, she lost her husband about three months ago and so we decided together with her 3 daughters that we would do something special for her. We got there before she came back home and prepared a nice dinner for her, put her favorite flowers (Mimosas) all over the house, and waited to surprise her. And when she saw us, she cried of happiness. If I can't celebrate my mother and shower her with dinner and flowers, then I can do it for the only other woman who has known me my whole life and loves me unconditionally.

And now I'm sitting here and writing this and all I can do is smile because I know that through everything I did yesterday, through everything I do every day, I celebrate my mother. I don't need to be sad or cry to miss her. I can just channel it in a positive way. I can enjoy the next best thing.

If she was here today

Every year this beautiful day that celebrates all the wonderful mothers comes as a bittersweet sting for some of us. Those of us who don't have a mother to celebrate, it reminds us of what we're missing --even though we miss it every day, somehow, on those days, it aches more.

It's mother's day and I can't possible not pause and mention my mother. She may not be here today but if she was, I would've celebrated her just like you. If she was here, this morning, my brother would've walked in her room to give her a kiss before he went to school. My sister and I would've made her breakfast in bed, like when we were little, just to remind her that we still love her and need her as much as when we were seven. Maybe even more. We would've made her coffee, black I think... but I can't remember how she took her coffee, and that breaks my heart.

If she was here today, I would've written her a letter, enclosed in a funny Peanut greeting-card, because those were her favorite. It would say she was the best mother in the world, because we all think our mothers are the best in the world and we're all right, they are for us. And I'm sure your mother is special in her own way, but to me, my mother was the most special of all. When I was a little girl, maybe six years-old, my grandmother told me that one day, my mother would be my best-friend. I remember this distinctly because I laughed and said "no way." But it was true. And it didn't take that long. And it was at the peak when you're supposed to be rebellious and go through that phase when you hate your mom or something and I have no clue what that phase is because my mom was my best-friend and not in a loser-I-don't-have-any-friends kind of way... She had this magical power that made it impossible for me to lie to her, the way any normal teenager should. I tried once, and I have a witness --my friend Rebellious, of course, who was a professional mom-liar. I told her I was sleeping over at a friend's when in fact I wanted to go clubbing --I was 14 I think. She believed me, but I couldn't live with myself for more than ten minutes. I went back and told her I lied. And I had a lot more fun knowing I went with her blessing.

If she was here today, I would've gotten her a nice bouquet of colorful tulips. I got a white bouquet and they're in a vase next to her picture. That's what we have now, her face in a frame, immortal, present, beautiful, unwavering. If she was here, I would go lie next to her in bed, put my head on her chest and ask her to stroke my head, just to feel like a little girl again, protected by her mother. If she was here, that's all I would want.

They say you don't know what you have until you lose it. I knew what I had and when I lost it, I knew nothing would ever replace that void she left. And even I am celebrating my mother today, here or not here. That's the thing about wonderful mothers... even when they haven't been around for ten years, you still hear their advice resonating in your head; you still feel their love getting you through the bad days; and you still think about them every single day.

Happy mother's day, mothers.