Dear Bereaved Parent,
Mother’s Day – Ugh
I remember the first Mother’s Day after my daughter died. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t want to hear the store clerk tell me blindly “Happy Mother’s Day” with absolutely no comprehension of the knife they wielded that cut through to my heart.
I didn’t want my daughter to be gone. But she was.
At the time, I still had two treasured sons. I did get out of bed. My boys and I had an exhausting, magical day. You can read about it here.
Even after all these years, I still cry. But my tears are different. They are older. They are wiser. They hold a gratitude that I didn’t know in the early years.
Wishing you soft tissues, the kind with lotion, and hope in your heart that your tears will also become different one day.