Mothers’ Day doesn’t mean a lot to me. We never made a big deal of it before Clea died either. When the children were younger they would make things for me such as bookmarks or photo frames from childcare or school. The boys are almost 13 years old now so there’s not a lot of craft happening.
And Clea would be 14 ½ so I don’t think she’d be doing a lot of craft work either. In my mind, she grows and walks with us. She would be tall and slim now and her face and body would have more womanly characteristics. I like to think that she would be arguing with us and standing up for herself. I don’t imagine her as meek and mild doing whatever we told her to do.
I see her friends from time to time. They are all in Year 9, growing into adults. Some I almost don’t recognise. They are all so much taller than I am (which is not hard – I am not tall) and their faces are not the faces of children. They are young adults thinking of their futures out of school which isn’t that far away.
In about two weeks’ time, it will be 400 weeks since Clea died. I know that I was going to stop counting but I can’t help myself. I need to count the passing of time in some manner. There are months and years but I stick to weeks. Days would be too many. I like to know how long it has been since I saw my daughter.
I have been thinking a lot about happiness lately. We are not a happy family and I wonder what the effect of that will be on my sons. Although, they do not seem unhappy. Happiness is always fleeting and probably always has been. I read a book called ‘The Happiness Myth’ by Jennifer Michael Hecht. It says what we all know that shopping won’t make you happy and working yourself to death won’t make you happy. I must admit that I focused on the chapters about drugs (legal and illegal) and the way they can induce moments of euphoria; just moments. And I thought that is all I would like, short moments of euphoria. I do remember those days but now I am past even knowing where to purchase such drugs.
You don’t need the drugs but you do need some way of achieving short bursts of euphoria. No one wants to live sadly all their lives. I am sad that Clea is not here but I do not always lead a sad life. I wish with all my heart that Clea was here and, as I’ve said before, if there was a devil I would gladly do a deal with him or her.
But the deal is that I must live in this life and to do that I should find moments of happiness, enough to make life less bitter and less difficult. I do not believe that you can be happy all the time and nor should you be but little moments here and there make for an easier existence.
I hope that my sons do not look back on their childhood as one of sadness and anger. I hope they have moments of happiness held in their memories. As I have moments of happiness held in my memory of a beautiful daughter who I love and have loved.
Happy Mothers’ Day.