Happy Mother's Day?

My poor dear sweet husband.  It is so hard for him... he tries so hard to make me happy, but I think he's having a hard time realizing that he can't take my pain away.  My girls would be 15 months now, and most days "life" keeps me pretty well distracted.  And then there are days like today.

The fact of the matter is that no matter how many special things that Tom and Tommy do for me on Mother's Day, there is no way to balance out the pain.  The roller coaster of grief drops very quickly to the bottom on days like this, and there are very painful "grief bursts" that really ruin the day.  And on top of it all, I feel guilty for not being able to be happy for what I do have.  Like I said, the pain is just so intense that there is no good that can outweigh it.

I know that sounds horribly depressing and melancholy, but it's not the case every day.  I can smile, I can laugh, and I can even do those things when thinking and talking about my time with my girls.  But on their birthday, holidays (especially Mother's Day), and multiple other times (funerals, resurrection-focused sermons, songs about heaven, etc) it just all wells up.  It all comes back like it was just yesterday.

Slowly but surely I learn ways to cope.  One that helps bring me some peace is going to the girls' grave.  We aren't as frequent visitors as some bereaved parents would be, but we go when we feel the need and are searching for a chance to feel just a little bit closer to "baby sisters" as Tommy calls the girls.  We find things to do, usually planting flowers or bulbs, pulling (or spraying, if you're Tom) weeds, cleaning bird poop off of the headstone (Tommy was quite concerned about the presence of bird poop on his sisters' stone) and answering Tommy's million questions about who is buried where and if and how they are related to us.  While I know it is not for their benefit, it does a lot of good for us.  It is time to do something and remember our dear sweet babies.

So maybe the concept of "Happy" Mother's Day is not the same as Hallmark intended it, but we make the most of what we have.  And given that I can only hug, kiss, and watch one of my three children grow, I think it was as "happy" as it could have been.