A difficult post.
I find it nauseating that on Mother’s Day, I can no longer celebrate it because it has become a meaningless day for me. I walk past the Mother’s Day card section at the store – I have no one to buy for. I do try and acknowledge my friends and family on this day, but honestly the day makes me sick with hurt. I’m tired of the Mother’s Day commercials. It’s all a constant reminder of what I’ve lost. The magnitude of it all hits me in the pit of my stomach. I cannot wait until it is over so I can move on.
The life I’ve made since the passing of my daughter Brittany has been for the most part productive. Productive is a good term. I love my work and staying busy with school – it all keeps me productive. For the most part I am fairly happy with how things are going. But don’t think for one second, that I think it’s better, or I can dismiss what has happened to me. Not many of you get it and I have learned to accept that. I’ve learned to just nod and keep going, when the comments encouraging me to “count my blessings” or “be grateful” for what I have. Unless you you’ve lost a child – you don’t get to say that. I’m a little over being nice about this now.
I have worked very hard to get through these past seven years. Healing comes in helping others. Writing this blog has been very cathartic and I hope to do more writing in the future. I have been following a few other blogs of moms who have lost a child and I can tell you there is a comfort amongst my fellow grievers that when I find times that I need someone to understand my pain, I know I can come to the blog family and find comfort. We are here to help each other. For the new mom entering this sacred group – your words have been my words; to the seasoned mom who has been on this journey a while – your words help me to know I can make it. We need each other more than we know. Keep writing. Keep telling your story. We want to hear you.
My mom taught me to
be a strong woman.
She taught me to never settle. She taught me to excel
in all that I do.
She taught me that
love of family is paramount.
Happy Mother’s Day Mom. Please give my Brittany a kiss – I miss all so much!
Until next time
M
Mom (top)
Nanny (left)
Brittany (right)
Unimaginable Grief Unexpected Blessings 
Thank you for that, exactly what I needed after a nauseating day listening to people wish one another Happy Mother’s Day… painful indeed.
My daughter’s name is Karena, she died two years ago in a tragic car accident, too awful to write about it now as the pain surges whenever am on the subject. Yesterday, I found three perfectly written “K”s on the ground outside my house, as though written with a stick. No-one was here before I saw them, so it could only have been a sign from her for me!
Am reading Eben Alexander’s “Proof of Heaven” at the moment. Its a wonderful book giving me some hope to keep going.
Sending u love and thank you again for sending me your blogs.
Sarah
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I know what you mean. I am lucky to still have my mom and my girls, but the hole in my heart overtakes on holidays like Mother’s Day. I hide at home the whole weekend. Hugs!
Thank you so much for taking the time to write. I am so very sorry for your loss. It’s still so fresh for you and i hope you continue to find some peace from reading about my journey.
Thank you for taking the time for writing.
My new grieving Mom friends help me so much. No one can really understand this pain unless it happens to you. We are being asked to do the unthinkable — live here without our child. I miss my daughter so much. Time doesn’t heal all wounds. Peace be with you.
My wife and I just experienced her first Mother’s Day after …. I can’t stand that other parents have to experience this unbelievable pain. My prayers are with you.
John
http://johncrewsblog.blogspot.com/2014/05/torn.html
John – I’m so very sorry for your loss. I am humbled and appreciative that you took the time to write. I hope my blog is helpful. I am pretty open and raw for all to see. It is my hope that those who have entered this sacred journey can see that there is a way to move through the process and come through it with a sense of hope. While it never goes away, it does help to write and to help others. Through the many losses I have experienced, losing my daughter was the worst ever. Nothing will ever replace her, but honoring her life is the best way I can keep my head above the watershed of grief. Much blessings to you and your family.