Today is the day mothers are acknowledged the week before Mothers day that have lost a child. Its such a tragic loss that they gave us our own day. I remember standing at my sons funeral, one by one they came up to me and I dont even remember their faces. I remember the priest sitting with me at the wake. I dont even remember what he said but his eyes had such pity for me. I remember standing outside of church so many people who worked with my son, telling me beautiful stories of him. How he made stockings for all of the children at his job and wrote their names. I was afraid of those days to end because I knew I would be alone. All the embraces and cards and conversations would all disappear. My son would still be gone the same as those few days but one by one, they all disappear. But there the bereaved mother stands. Her days are all the same . She searches for other mothers for she knows there is no one else that could possibly understand but them. It brings her comfort. I thank God for these mothers. I know our children are together and at peace.
Three years has past. I’ve learned to live with my loss. It’s always there but I’ve learned how to mask my life. I feel like I am looking into a window looking at my life that once was. The people that were apart of my life walking past with a new family. Where is my son. I dont see him as I look through this window. I see his daughter holding hands with all new people. Looking through my window I cant touch her anymore. I was there when she was born. Who are these people walking in her life. How did this happen. This window I look through now. I feel numb inside. As I sit at my window I think of what once was.
It’s been a long time since I dreamt of my son. 3 months after he passed he came to me. It was meaningful and vivid. It was so much more than a dream. It was where we use to live and he was waiting for me. I ran to him and he held me. I said I miss you so much and we both just hugged and cried and then he waved goodbye. The second dream the three of us were hugging. It was me and my 2 sons. He had his arms around both of us. It had such great meaning. The last time was last May. I was on vacation unaware of dates. I woke up crying. He brought my brother to me. He said Mom I brought Uncle Tommy to you. He was dressed as he always was. I woke up and I checked the date because it was May. I lost my brother May 19 and it was May 19.❤ I went to two different mediums since then and both said they were together and knew how my brother died and the cancer that took him. We will always be connected. As much as I miss touching his face he is there. Perhaps he feels it caused me too much pain to visit me but if it is pain I must feel to see his smile it’s ok.
For the mothers whose children have grown. We never lose sight of once was. Those memories stay with us. They are tucked away from inside of our heart. We hang them out occasionally. Stand back and stare at our early days. Days that we thought would never end. They were exhausting but I would never trade any one of them. They have completed my life. Our journey. The journey. Of learning to love apart of us.