I’ve asked myself out loud, and God too, why the pain has to be this bad since you’ve been gone. I really believed others when they said the first year of holidays, milestones, anniversaries, birthdays, and loss would be the hardest. They were wrong though. Most people also added extra side comments, attempting to justify and make sense of the pain. Most times their words hurt more than they eased the pain, though. There was one person though that said something that stuck, and I believe it to be true to this day.
“It hurts this bad, because he loved you that much.”
Each time I cannot escape the pain, whenever it overpowers me to the point I cannot breathe, I remember this statement. I do, because I know I wouldn’t trade anything for the alternative. I would never trade how much you loved me, just so the pain would be a little less–even two years after you’ve been gone.
Mother’s Day, though, baby, it is the hardest of them all. It is THE holiday that almost tips me into the downward spiral I cannot get out of. It’s the holiday that you created for me. It’s the holiday that we only got one of together, and even that one was incredibly special. It’s a day society celebrates the hardest job on this Earth–being a mom. You’ve given me many things in this lifetime, but being a mom and your wife are the two greatest gifts of all.
Our son is beautiful, he looks just like you. His crystal blue eyes, that squint in the outward corners take my breath away, because it is you looking back at me. He is incredibly talented, smart, and problem solves well beyond his short, little three years of life. His heart is lined with gold, and tender, much like your’s. He is you, inside and out, in every way possible. He is like other children though: testing his limits, exploring, creating, figuring out. He gets sick, has his bad days, and grieves just as hard as me. He asks for you to come down from Heaven to play, and to come out of your picture that he kisses each time we walk down the stairs. He thanks God for you each time he says his prayers before he eats, and when he lays his head to down to sleep. And all of those reasons and more, reminds me that his innocence does not know yet how hard this mom business really is.
I sometimes believe Satan when he tells me, parenting would have no hardships if you were here to help me. He often whispers lies that homes that have two parents have no challenges, are not sleep deprived, or sick with worry. I know he is wrong, and I know he lies. Every day though, I still ask God for a little more patience, a little more grace, and a whole lot of guidance to get me through being a mom without you here to help me.
I wouldn’t ask for anything special if you were here. I wouldn’t ask for any gifts, flowers or jewelry to prove how much you appreciate me being your son’s mom. I would just ask for a hug and a kiss, and to sit on the front porch swing appreciating the miracle we created. Since I cannot have that though, maybe you can send me a sign from Heaven to tell me you love me, and appreciate me, even in the really hard days for taking care of your boy. Maybe you can send me a sign through our son that, maybe, just maybe, I am doing something right as his mom, and not failing when I lose my patience more times than not. Would you, please? Because Mother’s Day is truly the hardest holiday without you here to tell me you love me.
I love you. Forever and Always,
Your Son’s Mother