Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Mothers Day part 1

Everyone has one.
Not everyone knows theirs.
But everyone knows one.

I've been thinking about mothers a lot as we near the day we celebrate mothers and motherhood.  I've also been thinking of dear friends who have lost a child or have tried to have children and are trying so hard to find a way to bring children into their home. My heart aches for them.  I wonder how they manage to get out of bed on days like Mother's Day.  I would certainly struggle with the yearning and the loss.  I love them dearly.  I think of them often but don't mention it because I don't really know how to.

In Primary on Sunday we were practicing a song for Mother's Day.  Pretty typical really.  But it got to me.  I had a hard time keeping my emotions in check with the older kids.  Why? It wasn't because of their enthusiasm.  (They think I torture them sometimes by making them learn something new.)  No.  It was one boy.  He was sitting off by himself with his head in his hands.  I was feeling very sensitive to him on Sunday and explained to all of the kids that we don't always have our moms here with us but we can still honor them by thinking of them.  You see, his mom died a few years ago.  His dad has remarried.  He's been dealt a hard hand to play with his own physical ailments.  I know he misses his mom.  A lot.  I know when I'm physically ill there's something about my Mom that is comforting.  Now that's not to say his step-mom hasn't tried.  I don't know much about his relationship with her but I can see his pain of losing his mom is still tender.  He's also going to be coming up on a milestone in the next year- turning 12.  Milestones are hard when you miss someone.

My heart goes out to the mothers in waiting and the mothers in mourning and those who have lost their mother and those who silently bear their own cross with burdens too big to describe.  You are not forgotten.


  1. My heart is leaking out the corners of my eyes right now. We all end up with a Mother-shaped hole in our heart that is nearly impossible to fill. Universal, yet intensely personal. Thank you for looking with love at suffering that we sometimes want to look away from.

  2. Maggie, I love this post! you are amazing... Mother's Day is bittersweet for me. My Mom is here, alive and well, and I love her dearly. My older sister, however, is not. She passed away six years ago from cancer and every Mother's Day stings a bit since then. She left behind six children and I know they miss her TERRIBLY... more than I could even imagine. I can't imagine what it would be like not to be able to call my Mom on the phone and hear her voice... Thank you.

  3. I love this post. I have worked in child care for 7 or 8 years now, and it is always heartbreaking to see the kids struggling with this. I am glad that others recognize there loss.