Things and thoughts that have broken my heart.
At the baseball field one day, I caught myself zoning out, staring at nothing in particular but the spectators coming and going. I caught a glimpse of bright white hair about my mom’s length, super far away. My heart seemed to leap causing my focus to attach itself to this sight. The sensation I felt at the leap of my heart quickly turned into a gut punch. What I saw was a person who could’ve been my mother. Except my mother is dead.
Only the second sensation, the one I described in my gut, came about a week later when I was shopping at a baby store with my littlest one. I approached an aisle with an expectant mother shopping with her mother. I died a little when I saw that and felt that awful blow. I too, once had that moment with my own mother when I was expecting my first born. I wanted to tell that young pregnant mother how fortunate she was and to cherish that precise moment, that minute, that day, and that opportunity. I then began to wonder if on that day, when my mom and I were shopping, was there a new mom who might have witnessed that moment while yearning for her deceased mother. I used to be so unaware.
Sunday is mother’s day. I can’t think about it without crying. The advertisements on the radio, tv, and in the stores seem to have a personal vendetta against my weary heart. I ache for my life back. It completely crushes me to know my girl won’t know my mom, that my sons will never see their grandma again, that I will never have my mom back.
My mom came to many of my son’s baseball games. I don’t have to keep an eye out for her anymore because she isn’t coming. The same is true for his last football game tonight. She won’t be there. There is no one who would’ve enjoyed my “outfit of the day” on my baby girl the way she would have. I know I should be grateful for the time I did have with her but that currently brings about ZERO comfort.
Mother’s day feels so vacant for the motherless.
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