Week 42

Forever In My Heart Friday. FIMHF. Week 42. IT’S HAPPENING!! PANIC! ANXIETY! BREATHE CRYSTAL…BREATHE!! There are so many emotions building up inside of me this week with the coming of Mother’s Day this Sunday. The oddity of it all is that the day itself is not nearly as overwhelming right now though as the anxiety and sadness which precedes it. The idea of Mother’s Day in our culture is painted as brightly and sentimentally as any Hallmark commercial. Signs appear everywhere telling you to not forget your mother, special brunches are offered at restaurants…the list goes on and on. The anticipation and the letdown can be almost excruciating. The crushing blows of a cruel reminder that yet another holiday that I will have to spend without my daughter. The holiday that celebrates my most important, A MOTHER!

On Tuesday my “Timehop” so kindly reminded me that on May 3rd, 2 years ago it was Mother’s Day. My kids and I were in Playa Del Carmen having the time of our lives with Sheila, Trin and Emma.  Probably one of the best Mother’s Day’s ever.  Then it hit me.  That’s when I realized that Myesha was the party/event planner of the family.  She planned the holidays, the parties, and the special days.  I could always count on breakfast in bed on Mother’s Day and she made sure that all the chores in the house were done so I didn’t have to lift a finger.  She was the delegator on those days and Chloe, Malakhi and Corban never complained. Breakfast in bed was a given. Who’s going to bring me breakfast in bed now? Ohh, how I remember the first time she brought me breakfast in bed, she must have been about 5 or 6 years old.  I woke up to the smell of burnt toast with grape jelly on a little plate sitting on my stomach in bed.  She was so proud of herself.  And you know what?  It was the best burnt toast with grape jelly a mother could ask for.

When a parent loses a child we have now learned to master the art of pretending that we too are ordinary and that life is normal. At first, we are different because of the bitter raw sadness. We are left to struggle within our brokenness and to find a new way to live. We miss our child who was the very center of our world and we miss the joy of being a complete family. But over time, the sadness moves from our skin into our bones. It becomes less visible, but no less who we are. Without pause or hesitation life does continue on whether we like it or not. There are chores to do and bills to pay; morning comes, again and again. So we pick ourselves up and we live, but we are never the same.

Losing a child doesn’t take away our motherhood but everything about being a mom has changed since. I miss the life I once had. Now I’m on my own path of redefining where I now “fit” now in life.  I often miss my former identity. I miss my purpose in life that I had. But I’ve since come to terms that this purpose that I had set in my own mind was not the purpose God had for me or my family. My grief is slowly changing into wisdom. We who have lost children understand life’s fragility and beauty. We who have lost children understand that so many things just aren’t important. All that is important is those we love. All that is important is each other. Nothing else.

But on Mother’s Day, as on each day of the year, I will think of Myesha, remembering who she was, how she changed my life for the better the day she was born and how she continues to make me a better person in death.  I will honor her life by doing the best I can with what is left of my life.  I will remain in the moment and treasure my memories.  And for this mother, that is enough. And though it may bring tears to my eyes and cause that knot in my chest to tighten, I will smile the biggest smile ever when someone wishes me a “Happy Mother’s Day” and say, “Thank you.” Mommy loves You Myesha! FIM <3 F