I find myself with a heaviness all day today as Mother’s Day approaches tomorrow. I had my first Mother’s Day without my mom in 1995. I would send flowers to my grandmother and later to my step-mother on that day, but overall, I liked to try to ignore it. I always seemed to miss my mom even more on that second Sunday in May.
Then, in 2002, on March 22nd, I became a mother, and the day started to have more meaning to me. Instead of thinking about no longer having a mother to celebrate, I could be a little celebrated. Over the years, Mother’s Day became more special as I had more children who would start making cute little projects at school for me. I loved watching them try to give me a special day. I can picture their beaming little faces running into my bedroom to wish me a happy Mother’s Day.
Now, that too, is missing. Without my middle child, the day is empty once again. I know that I still have my other children, and that I will get Happy Mother’s Day wishes from them, but Andy’s absence will most certainly dominate the day. I will long to go to the cemetery just to feel closer to him. I hope that one day, Mother’s Day might be a day to be celebrated once again, but I know that day won’t be tomorrow.
* If you want to take part in my Mother’s Day virtual support group, let me know and I will be happy to send the link. It will take pace at 4pm EDT.
This was the first Mother’s Day without my daughter Lauren. She was taken from me only three months ago on Valentine’s Day. She was involved in a car crash that ultimately led to her drowning inside of her vehicle. The crash was not discovered until 14 hours later. Her car was completely submerged at the bottom of a pond that was twelve feet deep. She tried to escape but couldn’t.
On this Mother’s Day the only thoughts I have are questions. Why? Why did this happen to her? What am I supposed to do now? Is there a place in time in which I will be able to remember a happy Mother’s Day? Instead of getting flowers from Lauren, I am laying flowers on her grave.
I am so sorry for the death of Lauren.
You are right. This is all wrong on so many levels. I wish I could answer your ‘why’ question, but I cannot. No one can. Know that you are not alone.