Mother's Day

Today is Mother's Day - my second since Greg died.   Last year was hard.  This year is harder.  A lot has happened since last year - cancer - a life-changing fall - a spirit-crushing experience with someone who owns a large part of my heart.  It's been a spiritual valley that challenges my willingness (and ability) to fight on.

Greg was great at remembering Mother's Day.  He chose a card carefully, happily came to visit and spend time - and often brought one or more of his children with him.  I could count on him.  I knew he would come.  I knew that he came because he loved me - because I was a joy in his life - not a duty (although doing something because it's a duty is not to be underrated - or underappreciated)

I loved his company.  I loved his mind - and even more, I loved his heart.  He was my counsel - my problem solver - my friend - my heart - my son. I loved seeing his truck in the driveway.  Strangely enough, he appeared to to enjoy my company as much as I enjoyed his.  I saw him and/or heard from him often.  I miss the calls. I miss his visits.  I miss my son.

The last two years before Greg died were hard.  He accused me of hacking into his phone - of sabotaging his life in more ways than I can count.  Because I always told him the truth, you could see and feel the conflict between what he thought was happening and what I told him.  His reality was so skewed by drugs that his daily existence was painful beyond measure.  I wanted to help.  I tried to help.  I wasn't able to help. 

On Mother's Day (and every day) I remember it all. 

International Bereaved Mother's Day

Tomorrow is Mother's Day and I'm a mess.  I still look for Greg's truck - still listen for that rumble coming up my driveway - still can't imagine that I won't see him tomorrow.

Mother's Day is another "event" that screams Greg's absence.  With every event, it's not just the day of the event, holiday, birthday, or whatever else that is so painful - it hurts in anticipation of "the day" and also after "the day".

Mother's Day is hard because not only am I missing a child, I have two other children who are precious to me and who I love beyond words.  I don't want grieving for Greg to diminish the joy of Mother's Day with my other two sons.  I want to be 100% present with them.

I recently discovered that there is an International Bereaved Mother's Day (and Bereaved Father's Day) that occurs one week before Mother's (and Father's) Day.  

I'm grateful that a day exists to acknowledge this strange and awful mother/child relationship that exists when your child is no longer on this earth, but in heaven.   I'm grateful for a day that I can think of Greg, speak Greg's name and embrace the son who won't be with me next weekend.

 

"Some mamas will be drawing or painting hearts on their hands and writing their missing child’s name inside as a beautiful outward testimony to an inward reality.  Every day we carry our missing child in our hearts"