Tag: mothers-day

i see you…

Like other holidays, and really any day for that matter, I have a new perspective on Mother’s Day. For years, Mother’s Day has been complex for a lot of different reasons. I have an amazing mom and 3 beautiful kids, but there are things that are and have been hard. Since Paxton died, the complexity of this day has deepened.

It’s another day of both/and…joy and sorrow…happy and hard. This is a snippet of the Caring Bridge post I wrote the first Mother’s Day after Paxton left.

I love that there is a day to celebrate moms.  I also realize that for a lot of women, Mother’s Day isn’t happy.  For some it’s heartbreaking…hopeful…hollow…helpless…heavenly…hopeless…heavy…heroic…to all of  you, I see you.  Whether your Mother’s Day is happy or horrible, I see you.

To all my fellow moms, you are amazing.  You are needed.  You are loved.  I pray this day is happy for you, but it’s okay if it’s not.  You are still a rock star and worth celebrating.🧡

I’m guessing today is challenging for a lot of mamas. Some of you have already lost your mom. Some of you don’t have a great relationship with your mom. Some of you are struggling as a mom. Some of you are longing to be a mom. For some of you it’s multiple things or all of the above.

Whatever today holds for you, I hope you feel honored. I hope you feel seen. You are worth celebrating.

to the one who wishes her mama was near

to the one whose mama is no longer here

to the one whose mama causes harm and tears

I see you

to the one who is only a mama in her heart

to the bonus mama who plays a big part

to the struggling mama wherever you are

I see you 

to the mama whose precious babe was born sleeping

to the mama who’s laughing and the mama who’s weeping

to the mama whose children have wounded her deeply

I see you

to the mama who finds it hard to let go

to the mama whose children are walking a prodigal’s road

to the mama who refuses to lose hope

I see you

to the mama who chose to relinquish her child

to the mama who puts on a brave smile

to the mama who hasn’t seen her kids in a while

I see you 

to the mama who has children not hers by birth

to the mama who has babies no longer on earth

to the mama who is carrying overwhelming joy and devastating hurt

I see you

to all of you mamas I just want to say 

Whether today is happy or hard, dreaded or embraced 

I see you, for you I hold sacred space

and I honor you this Mother’s Day

it’s complicated

One of the things that has surprised me about grief, especially child loss, is even simple things have become complicated.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Is it? Is it really that simple? Is it really as easy as the cards, flowers and celebration our society inundates us with?

What about the mom who no longer has a mother? What about the mom who has a strained relationship or difficult history with her mother or child? What about the mom that has suffered a miscarriage…the hopeful mom that is walking through infertility?  What about the mom that relinquished her child? What about the mom who has buried a child or children?

It’s complicated. 

Simple questions are now confusing mazes littered with landmines.

~How many kids do you have? How old are they?

How do I answer that? Do I say three? Do I say Paxton is 10 or 13? Do I say two on Earth and one in heaven? Do I open myself up to the follow up question of what happened? Is the person asking safe? Should I invite them into my grief garden? Will they see me and honor that sacred space or will they trample on my heart and pain? Am I dishonoring my son if I don’t share his story?

It’s complicated.

~How are you?

Do you really want to know? Are you prepared to hear the truth? Would it shock you if I said there are days I’m disappointed that I didn’t wake up in Heaven? Are you asking to be polite or are you open to embracing the answer, even if it’s not pretty?

It’s complicated.

~Are you sad your youngest is going off to college?

Isn’t the goal of parenting launching your child? Do you know what a true “last” really is? Do you know that you will experience the last of a certain stage but I am living the life of no new stages ever again?

It’s complicated.

~Should I turn on the radio or listen to music, knowing I might hear one of Paxton’s favorite songs or a song from his memorial service?

~Should I watch tv, knowing I might be blindsided by a scene that shows the sickness, injury or death of a child? Or even worse, a commercial like Life360 that has a mother glibly singing about the ways her child could die? 

~Should I never go to Walmart again, knowing that an aisle, toy or snack could cause a wave of sorrow to flood my heart?

~Should I look at pictures and watch videos, knowing they could either bring me joy or heighten the loss of what will never be?

It’s complicated. I wish there were easy questions with easy answers. I wish I didn’t have to view life through the glasses of grief. I wish I didn’t have to think about purchasing spots at the cemetery to make sure we’re by our son. I wish I could yell Happy Mother’s Day to every mom I see and not worry if they really are happy.

It’s complicated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

what I used to think was hard

was really a walk in the park

even the blackest night

wasn’t really that dark

and I hadn’t really suffered a broken heart

until I started this journey of grief

walking through life without you beside me

no more lasts

just never again

longing for easy

living in complicated