Four Mother's Days

This is what I was doing on Mother's Day morning five years ago. We were staying at a hotel in Waikiki, having a lively breakfast on a deck overlooking the beachfront. All was right with the world. I had all three of my grown children with me and all of my grandchildren, too. Married for 35 years, and blessed with cherished friends, we were all here to celebrate college graduations. We were all healthy and prospering. Life was truly as good as life can be. 

Later that day, Joey and I went for a walk along Waikiki's main street, and he entertained me the whole way.  That boy could make me laugh like nobody's business. I couldn't have been happier.
 Mama Bliss. 

A few short weeks later, my life had turned upside down. My son's ashes had been spread in the sea before me,  and I was myself an ocean of grief. 

I placed his memorial brochure beside the flowers. I wanted those passing by that precious spot to know the magnificent young man the whole world had lost.

~~~~~::~~~~~

Since that day, I have lived through four Mother's Days. The day is still very tender, and I still need to prepare for it emotionally. I know it will never be the same without a hug and a card from my beloved son.

But I have come to realize that this is the nature of life. What is true this year, may not be true next year. Life is ever-changing, it moves swiftly and relentlessly forward, ready or not. I have also come to see that I do not have it the worst. I have two daughters by my side, both beautiful mothers,  and we share the meaning of this day. I have two wonderful sons-in-law, who make me feel special. I have five adorable grandchildren, that keep me rooted in the present and the future, rather than in the past. I am not alone in my grief, as I have other bereaved mom friends, with whom I share the pain and poignancy of this day.  

As I lay out my blessings, I am fully aware of my cherished friend who cannot conceive a child, for whom this day is full of sorrow. I know another mother who has lost the one and only child she will ever have, and with that child, the potential for grandchildren. I know a mother who today is caring for a terminally ill child, and who does not give a second thought to her own breakfast in bed, when she is so busy squeezing all the memories she can from what remains. I know another mother who is experiencing this day for the very first time after the loss of her beloved son, and I know she can barely breathe today. And I know other sad stories of motherhood, that cannot be told here. To all of those beautiful women, I acknowledge your courage and send my love today. You are not forgotten. My heart and prayers are with you. 

And me? I am thankful for the privilege of motherhood, even when I lose, and pretty much under any circumstances at all.