Years and years ago she also lost a son, a wee baby. People seemed to forget. Friends and family barely mentioned him again. Much more so than now, it was generally thought that to speak of the passing of a child would only make the mother grieve more. How much sadder it is not to be able to speak of your sorrow.

To me, being able to converse about my son makes me half-happy.

Yet did these people really forget? I think not.

For sure there are those who will be thinking of us and our longing for our children on Mothers’ Day.
Others remembering our daughters and sons and will shed tears for them and would love to hold us tight and take away our pain. It is just too hard.

Sometimes I look for a cushion to hug. I shut my eyes, imagine and remember and try to be grateful that I mothered the fine young man I lost. I am so proud to have been his mum. I did the best I could. I sure was good-enough. Weren’t we all.

Our precious children knew love and they loved us. So many children exist in this world not knowing the love of a mother. Surely we should be grateful for the baby-hood and childhood we nurtured our loved ones through.

I wish us all a Mothers’ Day Dream – to close our eyes and sleep soundly with a lovely story going through our heads. That would be so nice. Almost as good as luke-warm tea and burnt toast in bed.