Today I found myself sitting at the cemetery for no reason other than wanting to feel closer to my baby. As I sat and chatted with him, read a little of my book, and scanned through Facebook, it was brought to my attention that today is bereaved Mother’s Day.
Let that sink in, bereaved Mother’s Day. I’m in shock and awe that such a thing even exists. It tugs at my heart to know there are countless other women who walk in my shoes daily. We get up and keep going in the wake of such darkness. We continue living and still celebrate the milestones. We yearn to hold, speak to, or simply see our children again with each moment that passes. We’re told regularly that we are strong, when in reality it’s all we can do to just keep ourselves together.
These last few weeks I’ve circled around that ugly cycle of grief for the umpteenth time over the last year. I find that I constantly get stuck between guilt and utter disbelief, that’s almost always followed up by a total breakdown before getting back up, plastering a smile on my face, and forcing myself to enjoy the time I’m given as much as possible.
I am humbled by the kindness of strangers. Sometimes a brief smile or a kind gesture just to show compassion for the rest of the human race goes such a long way. Patience is truly a virtue that I wish more people possessed. We’re all in a hurry for no apparent reason; to get to places that aren’t going anywhere fast. I wish we could all remember to slow down sometimes, take in the people around us, create memories that’ll last a life time, and love like we’re not promised tomorrow.
I’m often asked why I don’t write more often. I’m praised for the voice I’ve been given and the ability to occasionally get it out on paper. The truth of it is, I love to write. I find it therapeutic in a sense. However, I want it to matter. I need to know that my thoughts and feelings being poured out into the world make a difference in at least one persons life. Opening up and sharing such raw emotions can be a difficult task. I know many bereaved mothers who feel they must defend their journey through grief as others sit by and wonder why and how they’re “still hurting”.
My friends, this hurt will never cease, it’s woven into every fiber of our being. With this pain comes the deepest love known to man, the love of a parent and a child. One of the best quotes I’ve ever read stated:
“I’m sorry if my grief temporarily makes you uncomfortable, for myself it lasts a lifetime”.
I often feel like I was extremely guilty of living life in fast forward before we held Tyler in our arms. My eyes were not open to the world of hurt that strangers can bury deep down inside and hide from the rest of the world. I was naive in thinking when I had children they’d be perfect and healthy in every way, that nothing ‘bad’ would ever happen to us. I thought that my health would never fail, and I’d live to be old and just as in-love with my husband when I’m 80, as I was when I was 18.
Life twists, and it turns. Sometimes not in the easiest of ways. My one wish for you all today, on bereaved Mother’s Day, is to soak it all in. Kiss your children more and show them the love you feel in your heart. TRY and never let those precious moments pass you by. Let others know it’s ok to be human, after all, none of us are perfect. Take the hardships that come with life in stride. Hold your head high and don’t let this world ever bring you down. Just because others may not understand your current situation doesn’t mean your any less justified in your feelings.
You are always tougher than you know. Believe in you, and make the most out of today.
For all of my hurting mommas: I see you, I hear your cries, and I feel your pain. You are never alone! Myself and your sweet child, or possibly children, are always by your side and more importantly, within your heart. They walk along side us day by day and patiently wait for the tears to stop falling and a smile to appear at the thought of their lives here with us. Happy Mother’s Day!