We never celebrated Mother’s Day when I was growing up. Both my parents came from families that considered the holiday to be phony pageantry that was more about putting money in the pocket of Big Florist than it was about showing love and respect for our elders. I can’t remember ever really acknowledging the occasion as a child; it just wasn’t part of our family culture.

When I became a mother myself, it never occurred to me to honor the day. Fighting hoards of my fellow New Yorkers for an overpriced brunch reservation is my personal hell. Even the idea of being the center of my family’s special attention is somewhat mortifying to me; I’m not a big birthday person for this reason, either.

Of course, I love it when my daughters make me cards for any reason — I’m not that much of a jerk. While I acknowledge that the day is painful for many people who have lost or are estranged from their mothers, I don’t think we should get rid of the occasion; many find joy in it. It is just not for me.

The woman credited with creating our modern notion of Mother’s Day would likely agree with my family’s salty spirit. According to the Smithsonian’s blog, Anna Jarvis lobbied for a national Mother’s Day in the early 1900s to honor her mother, Ann Jarvis. Ann spent her entire life working to promote peace, unity and public health — most of Ann’s dozen children “died from diseases such as diphtheria or measles, which were common during her day in the Appalachian area of Virginia,” and so she devoted her life to the hygiene of her community. (Ann is probably rolling over in her grave right now as measles and whooping cough surge.)

A further irony: Anna was so appalled at the commercialization of the holiday she championed that she later tried to get Mother’s Day canceled. She ultimately “died penniless in a sanitarium where her bills were paid by the same greeting card companies and florists she despised,” according to the Smithsonian.

I shared the Jarvises’ story with my mother, who was not surprised. “Anything which can be commercialized will ultimately be corrupted,” she texted me. The only family holidays we really get into are Passover and Thanksgiving, because they are just about getting together over a big meal. I don’t know how you’d tart up Passover — plague-themed stemware? As for Thanksgiving, my mother put it well: “no one profits except the turkey farmers.”