Dear Mr. Bicycle Man,
Today is Mother’s Day and no surprise, it’s a hard day for those with Mothers in Heaven. I try to stay busy today. To keep occupied. It has been raining incessantly and my husband hasn’t been able to mow our yard for days. I decided that there was a break in the rain, I needed something to do, and I wanted to be able to lighten his load a little as he hasn’t had a day off in months-really. So, I mowed the lawn today. While mowing, you passed by on a bicycle and gave me a look. It was a look that seemed to ask, “why are you mowing on Mother’s Day.” The problem with this, is not that you were judging me, but more so, that you was judging my husband. I am fine when others judge me, but not my family. What you don’t know Mr. Bicycle Man (probably the same one that refused to wave at me last week while I was running) is this:
My husband loves his yard. In case you couldn’t tell, it always looks perfect. I don’t mow-ever. In fact, today when my husband gets home he will probably look at the grass and in his mind, wonder why I bothered, but instead he will come in the house, hug me and tell me thanks. He knows what today is. He gets it.
He will probably fix it, and make it look perfect and guess what, I won’t mind. Why, because he’s my other half and I know him just like he knows me. I know that when he said thank you, he meant it, but also that in his mind he was wondering how he was going to fix it. I know I don’t mow well, I know I love my perfect yard and just how hard he works to make it a park for me. I appreciate it and I also appreciate that today, I mowed the yard just to pass the time. I appreciate that he is okay with that (today).
What you don’t know Mr. Bicycle Man is that my husband woke up early (really early) so he could go and grab a little something for my kids to make me for breakfast before he had to go to work. A job that he does in service of others. He left me flowers, candy and a note. He is making my favorite meal tonight. What you also don’t know is that this isn’t uncommon. He often cleans, he often cooks and everyday he shows me he loves me. In fact, tonight, when he gets home he will show me he loves me with every ounce of his tired soul. I know this, because he does every day.
In addition, had you have looked a little closer you would have noticed my small boy walking in front of me, opening every single gate, door and lid for the garbage. He helped me push the mower to put it away and cleaned up sticks around the yard. He’s two. Already he has learned this from his father.
Mr. Bicycle Man you are not a mother. You may be a father, I don’t know, but you are not a mother. You are not me and you don’t know how it feels to be in my shoes. You don’t know how it feels for me on Mother’s Day to miss my mom. You don’t know what this day really is. So when you looked at me with pity, judging my husband and I waved at you…what I really meant to say was, “go screw yourself,” and “why aren’t you with your wife or mother making their day perfect.” Next time you feel like judging another, look in a mirror. Save it. Or better yet, stop and have a conversation, maybe we could have been friends.
Sincerely,
Bitter Me