Navigating Mother's Day without a mother is impossibly hard. I wish brands would make it easier to opt out of ads.
In the spring of 2021, my entire life changed in an instant. "She's gone" is all my mom's fiancé sent to me.
My mother, who was the cornerstone of my life, my sounding board, the person I called every day, whether she picked up or not, had unexpectedly died on a beautiful Sunday in May.
For the next year, I agonized over holidays that never really stood out to me. I couldn't get out of bed for the entirety of Thanksgiving weekend because she didn't text me to ask if I was coming over. Christmas felt like another day, even though my sister and I tried to maintain traditions for my nephew.
By the time April had rolled around, I had all but forgotten Mother's Day since she had died exactly one week after the year before.
Wherever I went, I couldn't avoid Mother's Day
By mid-April, I couldn't go to stores anymore. Every store was awash in pink and yellow hues, screaming about showing appreciation for the mothers in my life. My inbox had become inundated with Mother's Day emails about the best gifts, where to buy flowers, and not-so-boring brunches and dinners to cook for your mom. It became a minefield I had never expected to navigate in my early 30s.
As I was scrolling through, I found one, just one, email that asked me if I'd like to opt out of Mother's Day emails. It was from Etsy. After staring at the screen for what felt like an eternity, I finally opened the email. It said, "We know Mother's Day can be a tough time for some. If you'd like to opt out of our emails, click here." Relief washed over me in a way I couldn't describe, and I instantly clicked the button.
More companies have been offering the option
By the time Mother's Day rolled around the next year, I was better prepared to handle the weeks leading up to it. I became the biggest proponent of drive-up services, avoided certain areas of stores, and allowed emails to pile up to be dealt with later. I was grateful to once again receive the email from Etsy, but I was amazed that more companies hadn't understood how hard this day could be for some and had yet to offer opt-outs.
It's not just a hard day for those of us who have lost and are grieving their mothers. It's hard for those who have strained relationships or are in no contact with their mothers. For some, they may have suffered abandonment or are dealing with a mother or mother figure who is ill or dying. But it's also hard for women who have been trying so hard to become mothers, however that may look, or have lost children of their own. It wouldn't only be kinder for brands to allow for opt-outs, but it would also be smarter.
Thankfully, this year, just shy of four years after losing my mother, I have seen an uptick in the option. Etsy, steadfast, was the first at the beginning of April. Then followed the subscription service Book of the Month, publisher Hachette, clothing company Lunya, as well as newsletters including Apartment Therapy, The Strategist, and OpenTable.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Chicago Tribune
16 hours ago
- Chicago Tribune
Asking Eric: Advice for visiting grandma with dementia
Dear Eric: We live in the same town as my son's family. He and his wife have two little boys. Our daughter-in-law's parents have many nice homes, including a local condo. Her mother takes charge and makes plans for every holiday unless she's traveling. And we are never invited, despite our invites to them whenever we've squeezed in some plans. My son knows how we feel, agrees, but begs us not to say anything because they are so touchy. We don't want to cause trouble for him, but it is getting pretty hard to remain silent. Thoughts? – Uninvited Dear Uninvited: I really wish your son would say something to his in-laws about this. I understand that no one is under any obligation to invite anyone else into their home and that this 'touchy' relationship with his wife's family likely has other pain points. But you need an advocate here and it's (relatively) easier for him to stand up for you than for you to insert yourself. Short of that, however, you might want to have a conversation with your son and daughter-in-law about sharing holidays. The intention isn't to incite a turf war with your daughter-in-law's parents. Rather, by saying, 'I'm hosting Thanksgiving this year and I'd like for you to come' (or Fourth of July or Arbor Day, whatever the case may be), you start to rebalance the scales. The in-law's wants and plans don't have to be the default. By asking for what you want (or a version of what you want), you'll also be giving your son and daughter-in-law the chance to exercise their own autonomy. Maybe they don't want to automatically go to her parents' every year. Splitting family holidays can get complicated, but it's important to remember the ultimate goal is quality time together, in whichever configuration works best. Dear Eric: I'm a sophomore in high school and I read your column in the Seattle Times. My grandma has dementia. Over the past year, we've noticed more and more signs and convinced her to move into a nursing home a few months ago because we can't provide the constant care she needs. She's at a more advanced stage now and can't walk or feed herself, and she forgets who we are sometimes, which is hard for all of us. I love her so, so much and she was such a big part of my life, but now I can barely get through visits without breaking down. I hate seeing her like this and I'm finding myself avoiding visits because I can't face seeing her in a wheelchair and being so confused. She doesn't have a lot of time left and I don't want to regret not seeing her more, but I don't know how to get through the visits. I feel so guilty, but I don't feel brave enough to go. Is there anything I can do? – Loving Granddaughter Dear Granddaughter: The grief we feel when a loved one develops dementia can be incredibly complex. I'm so sorry for what your grandmother is going through and what you're experiencing. Right now, you're likely grieving the aspect of the relationship you've lost, as well as what's going on in the present. You may also be feeling some grief about what's to come. That's a lot – past, present and future all coming together in every visit to the nursing home. So, please try to grant yourself some grace. This is hard and sometimes bravery looks different. Regret about not spending more time with a loved one, or not spending the right kind of time, is complicated, too. It's something we can rarely control, but which we can guide in a different direction. Before you visit your grandmother, remind yourself that if your grandmother doesn't remember you, that's not the full truth of your relationship. Pull up photos or videos that bring to mind times that felt happier for you. This phase is a part of her journey – and your shared journey together – but it's not the whole story. When a loved one is nearing the end of their life, we can sometimes develop an 'all or nothing' feeling. As if the way we respond is the only thing that's going to matter or the only thing we'll remember. That's not true, but it takes work to reinforce that internally. This is a time for you to communicate where you are and what you're feeling with your parents and other loved ones. You can also reach out to a counselor at your school, if one is available, or look up dementia or grief support groups online. You'll find that you're not alone and you don't have to navigate this on your own. Take the time you need, be gentle with yourself, and hold on to the full arc of your grandmother's story.
Yahoo
a day ago
- Yahoo
As Father's Day approaches, she finds a sign that her dad is always present
My dad did it again. He sent a sign, this time on his birthday. It was a day I made extra busy, which in retrospect could have been subconscious planning. Skeptics would say it was a coincidence, or that I looked for the sign. But I did not. The hello from above was sudden and more than subtle. I had actually traveled home by plane that day, after my husband and I visited our son. The morning was whirlwind enough, getting yelled at by TSA agents, flipping luggage here and there, tying shoes in a rush, flying through the clouds, finding our car at the economy parking lot, then oddly missing the correct highway connection at the airport exit. There was no way I was trying to be spiritual or all woo-woo on a travel day. Once we arrived home, I greeted my brother. He was in town to keep our mom company while I was away. The three of us were sitting and chatting about my trip, when something outside the window caught my eye. A deer. In the early afternoon. In my suburban backyard. That yard is in the middle of a cul de sac completely surrounded by other houses with kids running around and jumping on trampolines. Everywhere you look, there are huffing joggers and whiz-by cars and zippy bikes and raging lawn mowers. Unusual deer appearances happened to me twice before, both times related to my dad. Once in New York on a rainy night when I realized his life was in danger, and then again, a year to the exact day of that first appearance, but in my Kansas yard. We managed to grab a picture of the deer before it bolted. It spotted us gasping and pointing by the window. I reminded my brother it was dad's birthday. We gasped again. (Last Thanksgiving, when my other brother was here, a barred owl planted itself on a tree near my front door. Again, I don't live in the Hundred Acre Wood. Another sign? Maybe.) I used to complain about this time of year. Every mid-May through mid-June, Mother's Day, Father's Day and both my parents' birthdays were clustered together. It was always Hallmark whiplash. In my case, before the deer appeared, I was thinking this upcoming Father's Day might be a little rough. And like Mother's Day, Father's Day can stir up some bittersweet feelings for many folks. I think it filters down to where you are in life, and your parent-child history. Maybe all your loved ones are here, and everything is close to perfect. If so, fire up that grill and pour some ketchup on your good fortune. Or maybe, for a million reasons, your recent expectations of how family life should be are not aligned with reality. And I use the word aligned intentionally because no matter what, most dads are automotive-ly hyper aware of the importance of straight wheels and regular tire rotations. Everything in life can be whack, a dad can miss the mark in so many ways, but if the treads on the tires are wearing evenly maybe he's trying. Old dad might say the wrong things or wear embarrassing jeans, but he could be trying in ways we never realize. I don't know. My dad always did his best even though he was born in a time and place of historic setbacks and tragedies. He had no head starts and no parenthood manual. He was an immigrant who enriched America with his wit, his charm, his work, his creativity, his service in the U.S. Army and most of all, the genuine love he passed down to his beloved grandchildren. He did his best to show up for all of them. And now, they are all making this world a better place. My dad's happy moments were always around nature, especially in his backyard garden. I don't think that deer showing up in mine — on his birthday — was a mere coincidence. Father's Day is going to be OK. Reach Denise Snodell at stripmalltree@
Yahoo
a day ago
- Yahoo
Special needs community has a blast at Point Mallard water park
Jun. 7—Michael Musacchia was pumped Friday after going down one of the giant slides at Point Mallard water park in Decatur. He made the journey with one of his caretakers from the R&R Group Home. He was among well over 200 people who turned out for the second annual Special Needs Summer Celebration hosted by Decatur Fire & Rescue, said Lt. Brandon Sivley. Last year's event drew about 60, he said. The event, which consisted of lunch and then water park fun, was from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. under clear skies and a scorching hot sun, though a rainstorm came through later in the afternoon. Michael Wrangler, also a member of the group home, had his eye on the diving boards after having a good lunch. "We're just here to have fun," he said. "We ate lunch with a mermaid, but I didn't get my picture with her." Alexis Mason, a caretaker with R&R Group Home, said they were at Point Mallard Friday because it was a special day for special needs caretakers and clients. "It was free admission to the park and free lunch," she said. "They offered hamburgers, hotdogs, chips, sodas and water." Mason enjoys being caretaker. "I love that they love me and they know the love I show for them is real," she said. "Some of them don't have their parents or anybody, so the caretakers are the people they look forward to seeing every day." It takes a special person to be a caretaker, she said. "It takes a lot of patience," said Mason, who has been a caretaker since 2022. "But with the right type of heart, you'll get it done. These are like your second kids. I treat them like my babies." Decatur Fire & Rescue began the annual summer celebration after hearing that some of the special needs clients in the community didn't have enough activities to attend throughout the year, Sivley said. Firefighters made calls for sponsors and now the effort has grown into celebrations on Halloween, Christmas and summer, he said. He thanked Point Mallard for allowing them to host the celebration. Texas Roadhouse volunteered to cook 300 donated hamburgers and 120 donated hotdogs for the event. Walmart donated about $1,000 to cover the meals. Other sponsors included Pepsi of Decatur, Hubbard & Drake and Gillespie Cabinets. Sivley enjoys the annual event. "I just like getting the handshakes and the hugs and the smiles — they are an awesome community." — or 256-340-2361
