Mother’s Day

I went to lunch with my sister and two dear friends today.  One friend lost her mother to cancer several years ago and has been a constant source of strength and support for me through this journey.  The other has a 5-month-old baby girl named Martha.  Yeah, I know….Martha.  How could I not love her name?  Probably the closest I’ve come to believing Mama is out there somewhere making things happen in this world is when this friend told me she was pregnant.  I stood in the delivery room December 2nd watching her emerge into the world, experiencing for the first time in exactly 10 months, pure, unabashed joy.  Joy for my friends and their good fortune, joy for the experience of witnessing a life begin instead of end, and joy for the new life of sweet little Martha, perfect in every way.  I’m still riding the high of the experience and every time I see her, that same rush of joy floods every ounce of me.  Balm for the soul.

And so on the eve of this Mother’s Day, I think of Martha’s mother and how giddy it makes me to think of her waking up tomorrow to the million dollar smile of her sweet baby girl.

I think of my friend who also misses her Mama tomorrow as I miss mine.  We will spend part of the day together, just as we did last year.  Her contagious laughter, sense of humor, and warmth are exactly what I need on this bittersweet holiday.

Shannon and Kathy–couldn’t live without ’em

I think of my first two children…the air that I breath.  Lou will wake up tomorrow and want to immediately give me the present she made for me at school.  The present that has been incredibly difficult for her to keep under wraps because she is so excited about it’s unveiling.  My guess is that Buddy will have something hidden somewhere that he’s been working on too.  Can someone just please stop the clock?

I think of my new son who I fall in love with a little more each day.  This son who does not yet know that he will call someone new “Mama.”  The son who, in a perfect world, shouldn’t have the need to call anyone else his mother than the one who carried him and brought him into this world.  The son I grieve for, wishing that it was that perfect world, for his sake, yet selfishly longing for the day I meet him and begin our relationship as mother and son.

And it goes without saying, every second still, I think of her….the one who gave me life and who will never cease to sustain that life no matter where she is….