I’ve never been a big fan of Mother’s Day.

I grew up in a household where my own mother thought Mother’s Day was a racket created by Hallmark and the retail industry to sell more products. She taught me from an early age that you should show love and appreciation every day – not just reserve it for one day out of the year. She preferred hand-made cards over store-bought, and she preferred hand-made presents and quality time with us over bouquets of flowers, jewelry, or store-bought gifts.

When I became a mother myself, I was often embarrassed at the fuss others would make over me on Mother’s Day.

While I appreciated the presents and acknowledgement of my success as a mother, I too believed that you should strive to show love and appreciation every day rather than one day out of the year.

But in 2010, my view of Mother’s Day completely changed. Instead of seeing it as an unnecessary excuse to sell products, it became a day I downright detested the thought of. It was the first Mother’s Day after the drowning death of my 4-year-old daughter the previous fall.

Mother’s Day was now a horrible, impossibly painful reminder that one of my children – one of my reasons for being – was no longer with me.

I remember telling my husband that year that I wanted no celebration. No presents. No acknowledgement of what day it was. The mere thought of it brought tears to my eyes and a sick feeling in my stomach. There was nothing to celebrate. How could there be?

Mother’s Day was now like a big scarlet letter on my chest showing what a horrible mother I was. I felt as if I had failed as a mother by failing to keep my child safe. I had lied to her all the times I had told her, “Mommy will never let anything happen to you.”

For any mother who has lost a child – and for that matter, anyone who has lost their mom – Mother’s Day is not a day of celebration, but of sadness.

The reminder of what you have lost overshadows the memories of what you once had. It doesn’t help that in the U.S., Mother’s Day is one of the most heavily advertised “holidays” behind Christmas. You can’t escape it. Reminders are EVERYWHERE.

Time has softened my feelings of failure as a mother. I have accepted that what happened to my daughter was a tragic accident. And I know that most of the time, the actions and activities that happened on that fateful day do not end in death. I understand that it is unreasonable to think I can be with my children 24 hours a day protecting them from every threat. And I definitely know now that certain things are simply not in my control.

Still, if I had my way, I’d prefer to avoid Mother’s Day altogether. It has become a day for my children, not for me.

It is a day for them to follow the societal norm and show that they appreciate and love me. I will appreciate whatever they choose to do or give to me, but it will never again be a truly happy day for me. It will forever be a reminder that one of my children is missing from the celebration. The only thing that could ever change my mind about Mother’s Day is to have all five of my children with me on that day.

But, of course, that will never happen.