I read back over my old posts about Mother's Day, and once again find that this pseudo holiday has a strange tug on my heart. I saw a number of posts by folks who were missing their mothers this day, as I definitely miss mine. Even some of the older ladies I used to be in contact with who became mother substitutes for me are gone now. I realize that I AM one of the older ladies.
I fear this not going to be one of my chipper posts where I find the happy side to share with you...I'm just not finding the words for that kind of post tonight. Maybe some of you feel the same way.
The gardenias are budding, but not blooming yet this year. The last couple of years they were hit hard by late winter freezes, but I see in them hope for a sweet reminder of Mama in the not too distant future. My girls showered me with thoughtful remembrances and words and Katie prepared a lovely luncheon for me and her mother in law. It was a beautiful day, and I have so much to be thankful for.
All of us are in relatively good health; the children are thriving and happy; we have enough of everything we could possibly need and most of what we want. We splurged recently and travelled to Israel, a trip of a lifetime that I never really expected to be able to make. One of the best things about the trip was seeing that things at home went just fine without me. My girls and Walker's driver made sure that he had everything he needed (after I made sure that some of his favorite meals were in the freezer) and all went so smoothly that I wondered why I'd been so hesitant to go in the first place.
The joy on Walker's face and in the fierce hugs he gave me when I got home, however, reminded me that he might not need to have me here all the time, but he certainly does like it when I come back. One of these days, though, I'm going to travel to a place I can't return from, and it really makes me sad to think that the empty feeling I have on Mother's Day when I think about my mama will settle over my own children too, especially Walker.
Walker grieves loss more deeply than I ever imagined. His memory is so acute for every incident in the past that he carries his grief in an active phase much longer than most of us do. I don't think there's any "cure" for this trait...it's just the way he is, but sometimes, like when there's a death, even the death of a pet, his grief breaks my heart. If I'm still feeling sad on Mother's Day fifteen years after my mother's death, how is he going to cope when I'm gone?
Maybe my fears are unfounded. My girls came through when I was gone to Israel, and they will probably come through again....I hope so.