Mother's Day has come again and will soon be gone. Another year of attempting to wrap our minds around just how important and precious these women are to us. My inner being digs for the right words, but for each one it is different. I have many women in my life who have guided and encouraged me on my 31 year journey. I am, at this very minute, raising my own small people. And with each year I seek for new ways of expressing my thankfulness.
This year, I can't say I have found the words.
This year, I understand why for so many years growing up my dad spent part of Mother's Day with fresh tears in his eyes.
It was almost as if a lightbulb clicked on, revealing a piece of my daddy's world that I had never understood.
He lost his mama when he was only seventeen.
I think I just assumed he missed his mom on Mother's Day. And while I do believe this is true, I have learned that there is also an indescribable ache. An ache that starts as a reminiscent heart, that turns into beautifully painful memories and wishful musings that escape as quiet, tender tears.
This year, my heart was heavy and I had my own fresh tears.
These tears cannot be dried by loving words. These tears don't need to hugged away, kissed away or consoled in anyway. These tears just need to fall because I am sad she's gone. I am sad that she won't see me being a mom. I am sad that she won't grow old holding grand babies on her lap. I am sad we can't swap child-rearing stories. I am just sad.
This year, I get it. Maybe every year will bring an hour or two of that dull headache that gives way to freeing tears. I will mourn for a mama that is missed.
And then I will laugh and tickle and hug on my babies. I will wrap my arms around my sweet mama- in-law and give thanks.
And I will remember.
