“Mother’s Day is probably one of the most dreaded days for moms who have suffered the loss of a child. Even, if we have the blessing of other children, there is always that empty chair, that lump in our throat and an indescribable ache in our hearts for that one who is no longer here with us.” –Angie Green, Mothers Like Me
Mother’s day looms.
With each mention of the impending day to honor moms, it seems an involuntary, audible sigh, doused in a bit of dread, escapes my lips. It’s not that I don’t fully delight in being a mother for my two children and consider it the greatest blessing imaginable, or that I don’t want to be honored for my role as a mom—it’s just that the very gift of motherhood, in all its blessings, is simultaneously the source of my anguish. It’s that deep, indescribable love as a mom unable to wrap itself around the very subject of my affections. When I reach for my child, my embrace falls on mere shadows of the boy who holds my heart.
And so I feel the empty space of my son’s absence far more acutely on a day carved out to celebrate our love.