Making Maki is the home of Maki B. It’s where all of life’s parts meet. Figuring out the work-life balance, managing finances, navigating relationships, finding the things that give us joy, appreciating life’s journey and caring for ourselves along the way. Making Maki isn’t about finding any particular thing; it’s about always searching for the best versions of ourselves and making the most of all of life’s lessons and opportunities.
Mother’s Day was a few days ago and it sort of didn’t quite cross my mind. I’m not a fan of commercial celebrations that guilt me into buying or doing things I don’t care for, so Mother’s Day isn’t on my calendar. If I want to take you to a somewhat overpriced brunch, I’ll do it any day of the year when I genuinely want to. If I sound cynical about Mother’s Day, you should hear my views on Valentine’s Day.
All that being said, plus the fact that I don’t have kids, Mother’s Day wasn’t on my mind before someone else mentioned it. Once it was mentioned, though, my mind went into overdrive about the whole idea of motherhood. As I really gave it some thought, I realized that I wasn’t always surrounded by the traditional concept of parents and children.
Growing up, my classmates and I weren’t always picked up by our parents. Sometimes the person waiting at the gate was a grandmother, aunt, foster mother, family friend or older sibling. When we described our weekends to each other the way that kids do, the stories didn’t always include our parents. For many of us, our parents weren’t always available, so our stories sometimes included wonderful substitutes.
The substitutes were vital to the villages that raised us. While some substitutes became fulltime mothers, others served as valuable fill-ins. They held our hands and nurtured us when we felt our worst. They attended plays and recitals, ensuring that there was always a warm smile in the crowd. They shared their stories so that we could learn from their experiences. They gave our mothers a few moments or hours for themselves so that they could simply breathe.
As a child, I didn’t understand the value of the substitute, but today I do. From the sidelines, I’ve been able to appreciate the women who provide selflessly for children not their own: the “aunties”, who, even in adulthood, remind us of our self-worth; the mothers-in-law who welcome us with open arms and love us as they love their own. For all that they do and give, Mother’s Day is also for them.
If I had to break my no brunch policy and invite the women that acted as substitute mothers throughout my life, I’d need a formal dining table. If I had them all at the same table, I’d thank them for their contributions to my life, their guidance and their support when I needed it most. Our relationships are neither traditional nor conventional, but they are invaluable.
So, if someone asks me if I celebrated Mother’s Day, my answer will be no. But behind that no, I’ll be thinking of the women who may or may not have conceived, given birth to or adopted the children in their lives. To the aunts, grandmothers, godmothers, caring friends and co-workers that have stepped in, I salute you. Perhaps you came into the role of substitute unexpectedly; maybe it wasn’t on your to-do list (which is so fine); maybe you were unsure of your roles in our lives and maybe we didn’t say thank you enough – regardless of, we’re grateful for you.
