A Different Mother’s Day

This year, when all the children climb into my bed Mother’s Day morning, he won’t be here. The little blue eyed boy who made me a mom won’t be here. For eighteen years he made me feel like the most special mother in the world, and he won’t be here. His handprints, macaroni necklaces, picture frames, fancy drawings, photographs, kisses and hugs; They are no more, and all I have left are memories of days past. 

At fifteen he made me a mother, and the moment I laid eyes on him, I knew I wanted to be better. I knew that he was special and deserved to have the best me I could ever possibly be. Who am I apart from him? I wonder this often. He has everything to do with the woman I am today, and I owe him so much. If he were to come back just for today, I would honor him this Mother’s Day, for giving me such a gift. The gift of motherhood, of course, but particularly the gift of being his mother. I am the one that God chose to bring Christiano to life and to raise him. The boy who loved and inspired people, who made everyone he met giggle and laugh, who possessed such a rare gift of humility and extreme talent; the one who gave the best hugs, (even though he was 6’9″, there was a perfect spot for me right in the middle of his chest) the boy who was intellectual and smart, but really cared about what others had to say. My baby boy; the one with the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen, a smile that was contagious, and a heart that gave much more than it could ever receive.

On days like today, I just don’t know how to do this life anymore. I don’t know how to move forward without the first person who loved me unconditionally. Please know that I’m so thankful for my other three babies who are here with me today. They have loved me so beautifully through this entire process, and they bring me so much joy each and every day. It’s a funny thing, though  – experiencing joy through this chronic pain. Somehow the two have learned to coexist in my heart. This weeping has lasted far more than one night… It’s been 199 nights to be exact. 199 nights of a pain that is unspeakable.  But, somehow joy is there, also. Because, the promise God makes is true. Joy always does come, even through sorrow. 

‘Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.’ Psalm 30:5b

We rejoice in our loved ones lives here on earth, and we sorrow at the loss we feel when they’re gone. When I think of Christiano, I smile through the tears, and I cry through smiles. I wouldn’t trade my time with him for anything, even a life with no pain. The deeper we love the deeper the pain we experience. But, I know we are to love anyway. 

If you are dealing with any kind of loss this Mother’s Day, please know that joy is promised. Whether, you’ve lost the child who first called you ‘mommy,’ the mother who made you who you are today, the spouse that affirmed you and loved you unconditionally, the grandparent who influenced your life in countless ways, the sibling that shared both your most joyful and most painful moments, the friend who changed your life and made you want to be better- I hope you experience some joy today. That is my prayer for you and for me on this Mother’s Day.

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