In the last several days there have been, for those unfortunate enough to belong to these groups, emails flying back and forth about Mother’s Day for mom’s whose children have died. Most of these “words of encouragement” from those we call “outsiders” are, though well intentioned, pathetically lacking in meaning and often serve only to hurt us more. I know this is true, because I am in contact with several of these mom’s, most of whom are trying to find ways to hide this weekend. Myself included.
It is not as if we no longer feel ourselves to be mothers, (many of these women have young children still at home). Rather, it feels like having been pregnant, then suffering a sudden miscarriage. One day pregnant, the next empty. The love still rages through the blood, but there is nothing to nourish. No blooms flourish.
Nor do we require any special recognition or notice. Quite the opposite, in fact, is true. There is no place for us to go where we are not forced to swallow the backed up grief that threatens to choke us in the face of what I always considered to be a fairly shallow “Wall Street” paternalistic nod to hard-loving mothers everywhere. As if a card and a present were ever necessary to feel love from our children.
When Maxx was alive he would buy me some crap from Target the day before Mother’s Day. One year a dented picture frame. One year an alarm clock that didn’t work. It was a family joke. We would go out for dinner somewhere and usually end up having some kind of ridiculous fight. Usually, my meal was the lousy one. But he used to draw me funny little hand-made stick figure cartoon cards that were precious. I couldn’t get enough of them. I have every one he ever made. And there will be no more.
This is the only email message that I’ve seen that makes any sense to me. It is circulating on the message boards written by a nurse in an ICU at a hospital back east. It is brutal. I hope I was able to sustain Maxx through his fatal illness. I hope I didn’t fail him.
Dear Mothers,
Thinking of you all and recognizing that so much more has been asked of
you than of most other mothers. You gave your children life, nurtured
and loved them, bore witness with them and cared for and supported them
through fatal illness. Each of your remarkable children drew from your
support, your courage and your strength to sustain their battles,
though you often say that it was their strength and courage that
sustained you. Such a testament to the closeness of the relationships.
Though there are no words please know that you are appreciated and that
thoughts are with you on Mother's Day and all days.
(Thank you to all who posted such kind remarks in response to my last posting.)
