Mothers Day comes and passes and I wait for someone to say something to me. They always do. They say Mother’s Day should be a special occasion for me now because it was hard for me to get these two. What battles and scars I carry as a mother is a story for another day they tell me. I smile and change the subject. What else is there to say? No.
There’s much to mourn on this day. I am happy. I love these two with a love that no one else can imagine. I wonder what I did with my life before they came along. However, the loss, the pain. No. Don’t tell me to celebrate. You have forgotten becaus you have that luxury. You celebrate because you hold the capacity to forget. I am the mother to all of them. I don’t have it in me to forget, celebrate or forsake those that have gone.
So, yes I will hold dearly my children every day. I will take care of them. I will do whatever it takes to protect them, and it goes without saying that I love them with everything I have. But I cannot celebrate days like these. You will find me smiling, laughing and enjoying my life to the fullest. You will, however find me quietly bypassing certain days, moments, when I’m told to “rejoice” and “celebrate” because somethings cannot be when they are incomplete. I’m missing something.
I fully believe he’s in a good place. A better place now then he was in when he was here. However, he’s not with me. It’s hard for a mother to feel complete. Content and complete are two different things. I’m satisfied with the decision that was made for me and him. I will be complete the day my family is reunited so I will leave the celebrations for that day.