I sit and ponder the meaning. If my mother were still alive, it would make sense to have a special day for her. However, a special day for mothers that have passed seems a bit odd. I mourn her passing on her birthday. I mourn her passing on the day she passed. Hardly a day goes by but what a thought of her passes through my mind and I grieve.
For the present, though, I toast mothers that be. I am not a total Grinch. You had a child once. Mazel Tov! Still, it also seems a bit odd to me to celebrate a woman’s ability to become pregnant. At least in the secular world we live in today. Women become gravid when they want to, and they become gravid when they don’t want to, and in a few unusual cases, have even become with child while in a persistent coma.
The sages tell me that getting pregnant is one of the few things in life that both God and (wo)man cooperate in to create a soul. Yeah. I can live with that idea. And at some point that soul leaves its mother and father, and join with another souls to create yet another soul, and so on.
I would like to believe that I would meet my mother again in some new sphere, and even speak hopefully of such a time. Nevertheless, whether I will or whether I won’t really won’t matter. NFFNSNC as it is written on epicurean tombstones. Non fui, fui, non sum, non curo in Latin. “I was not, I was, I am not, I do not care” is one translation that I like.
I can do nothing to change that. I will not know until the breath of life flees the body. So, like a fool, I hope for an afterlife, where I will once again see my mother and my father. I hope that like they, I have an incorruptible soul. However, there is little in nature tells me that is so.