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The first couple of years after my mother died were pretty rough for me. The worst of course being when Mother’s Day rolled around. It had been a day we usually spent together, just the two of us. Not that my brother and father didn’t do anything for her. We all did the obligatory breakfast, my father doing most of the cooking, the kids helping. (More like getting in the way and making a mess.) Once that was done and gifts were open, it was up to my mother how to spend the rest of the day. The one thing she always wanted to do every year was go to the nail salon and get a pedicure and manicure. She never went any other time, she really thought it was a waste of time and money. But it was the special treat she enjoyed every year for Mother’s day. While many mothers would have gone alone, making sure to take full advantage of a day of freedom, my mother always brought me along. Usually we’d also go for a long walk when it was nice, have lunch, go shopping, or whatever else she felt like doing.

So those first couple of Mother’s days without her were about the hardest thing I had to go through. It was harder than the funeral and every other holiday combined. The first couple of years I pretty much locked myself in the house and tried to avoid anything that would remotely remind me of the day. Eventually though I learned to get over it, well not quite get over it more like deal with it. It’s not like I can avoid being reminded it’s coming up, because every advertisement and commercial wont’ let you. But I try not to think about it and usually am not aware of the day it actually falls on. Some people ask me if I do something special, “you know like to honor her memory or to keep her memory alive.” My response is usually pretty shitty. She’s my mother I remember her everyday of my life. Not like I’m going to forget her because I don’t do something to remind myself of how much it sucks that she’s gone one day a year.