Mothers Day

Happy Mothers Day to all my favorite mama's. First and foremost, my own. She has paved the way for raising strong, independent, hard-working children. At the end of the day, we all somehow made it to adulthood relatively well-adjusted, fairly moral and ethical, and with a firm understanding that family comes first. I am only now starting to realize the gift that she gave us in helping us understand the balance of standing on our own two feet, while never letting anyone else have to stand on theirs alone. Although I'm a quite capable individual; my siblings and parents have always come to my aid when needed. And though they are capable, I'd like to think I have [and will] always come to their aid. I'm not sure how you instill this in your children, but I hope to instill it in mine. It seems like an incredible gift to be able to give. The knowledge that you can do it alone, but the wisdom that you shouldn't do it alone. That's what I'm carrying with me today. 
I'm writing this post a bit late for Mothers Day. The day itself was hard. I better understand this year that after losing a child, "Happy Mothers Day" isn't the right sentiment. I've always wondered this as I watched friends who had miscarried or struggled with infertility, but this year I figured it out. I don't want to wish anyone a Happy Mothers Day, I want to wish them an Honored Mothers Day. It is not a happy day for everyone, but if chosen to be a mother, it is an honor. I hope that mothers feel that honor today. It is something that I take much more seriously this year than I have in the past. I felt honored when I woke up and spent an hour of quiet time one-on-one making friendship bracelets with Emma. I felt honored when Norah squeezed her soft, chubby arms around my neck when she woke up, knowing that I had a role in her creation and she brightens the day of many. I felt honored that Grace found today special enough to remember to wish me a happy day without any prompting. 

The girls each bought me a flower after church today. Then, I got a flower delivered to my door from Hospice in honor of Will. It was a really sweet gesture.

Per the usual, there was yelling, there was fighting, there was every day turmoil...but it made the day seem so much better, because although it was messy, it was real. We didn't "celebrate" today. We went to church, had our normal Sunday morning brunch, and had an awesome afternoon playing and just being. I didn't want to hear Happy Mothers Day nor did I want to mistakenly wish it to someone else. I fought my every urge to get in the car and drive down to see Will because I am his mother every day and I didn't want this one to seem any different. I cried. I missed him. I ached for him. However, I also smiled, gave thanks, and had fun with the girls. I felt loved by my family. They made me beautiful homemade gifts, cards that left me in tears and pampered me as usual. It was a pretty normal day and for that I was so grateful. 
So on Mothers day and every other day that is a painful reminder of how beautifully heartbreaking love can be, my thoughts will continue to hold these sentiments close:
I believe in the sun, even though it doesn't shine, I believe in love, even when it isn't shown, I believe in God, even when He doesn't speak. I have eyes that see the unseen. 
He gives strength to those who are tired and more power to those who are weak. Isaiah 40:29