A Mother’s Day Ramble
Mother’s Day Ramble
What a complex day.
Growing up it was always a sad day, but I didn’t understand why. My mom grieved her own mother. As a kid, I definitely didn’t understand it—and I’m still learning.
Then one year, I made her watch PS I LOVE YOU—and I genuinely didn’t realize, at the time, anything about grief! Mother’s Day was always complex, but I never realized how complex it could be.
Now, as a mother of two children who have buried their first mom, grief hits on Mother’s Day in a new way.
Gracee’s grief is usually triggered around this time of year for two reasons. Her body remembers her first mom, even if her brain doesn’t remember everything because she was so young; and she has a court ordered visit the week before with her first mom’s parents. (If you know, you know).
Grief has absolutely taken over that mom and caused a rippling affect in many lives. At least, I identify it as grief even if she does not. Maybe that is my coping mechanism for all the things I’m not saying here.
My children’s first mom, while I didn’t know her, was every bit of special. The Lord used her in a mighty way and well, let’s be honest, He still uses her legacy.
When Mother’s Day is near, I encourage my older children to honor their first mom in any way they want to. I choose to let them guide that process.
But…it’s also beautiful because of the Lord. That’s the only way to explain the beauty of this complex season.
To my children’s first mom,
Thank you. Thank you for trusting the Lord enough to pray for me when you didn’t know me. Thank you for loving them enough to see the big picture despite your illness and grief. Thank you. You would be so proud of them and who they are becoming.
To the Grieving Thorn,
No one doubts the loss you’ve had—not for one second. Sometimes, I just want to hug and you help you see the beautiful thing God has done and is doing. Other times, I have to bite my tongue because of my maternal instinct.
What a complex array of emotions!
To my mom,
I’m sorry for every inconsiderate word, action, or thought I had growing up. I’m sorry I never truly understood your love. I never understood your grief and to be honest, I hope I never have to. I never want to live in a world where I can’t hear your voice, or smell your neck, or feel your embrace—-all things I have taken for granted (and all things I’ve helped my oldest two grieve). I treasure the reality that I still have you. I treasure the reality that my kids have you. I am so thankful that you’re my mom.
To my children,
I hope you know that I don’t take it for granted that I get to be your mom (now). For Gracee and Titus, I know I will never replace your first mom, and never would I want to. I’m overwhelmed with gratitude that the Lord’s provision saw to it to answer her prayers with me and my prayers with you. Libby, girl, you’ve rocked my world as a mother—you’ve rocked all of our worlds. The three of you are my treasure and I cherish that I get to be in your life. I love you.
#mothersday #grief #complex #ramble