If you've been a part of this community for awhile, you have probably already read the piece that I wrote back in 2010 about my first Mother's Day and how the weight of it all lifted just a bit when I learned of the history behind the holiday. If you haven't already read it, please check it out here: http://sweetpeaproject.blogspot.com/2010/05/mothers-day-of-peace.html
Instead of reposting that piece here, I wanted to share something that I stumbled upon recently. The woman who owns the art gallery where I have worked for the past decade always calls me "the next Erma Bombeck" because she thinks I am an "honest and hilarious storyteller." (I can think of few compliments that could ever make me happier.) And so I picked up some of her work the other day and started flipping through it, and came across an incredibly relevant piece of writing.
The following is a column written by Erma Bombeck. It was first published on May 14, 1995 and it
was later include in the book Forever, Erma: Best-Loved Writing from America'sFavorite Humorist. I think all the
mothers who have outlived their children, and there are far too many of us,
will find it to be a relevant read this weekend. For so many of us, this Sunday will not feel
special or beautiful. In fact, it might
feel torturous. Worse yet, we may feel excluded and unworthy. But we belong in the category of mother, and we deserve that recognition on this (and every) day.
We are still mothers.
Mothers who have lost a child - May 14, 1995
by Erma Bombeck
If you’re looking for an answer this Mother's Day on why God reclaimed
your child, I don't know. I only know
that thousands of mothers out there today desperately need an answer as to why
they were permitted to go through the elation of carrying child and then lose
it to miscarriage, accident, violence disease or drugs.
Motherhood isn't just a series of contractions. It's a state of mind. From the moment we know life is inside us, we
feel a responsibility to protect and defend that human being. It's a promise we can't keep. We beat ourselves to death over that
pledge. "If I hadn't worked through
the eighth month." "If I had
taken him to the doctor when he had a fever." "If I hadn't let him use the car that
night." "If I hadn't been so
naive, I'd have noticed he was on drugs."
The longer I live, the more convinced I become that surviving changes
us. After the bitterness, the anger, the
guilt, and the despair are tempered by time, we look at life differently.
While I was writing my book, I Want to Grow Hair, I Want to Grow Up, I
Want to Go to Boise, I talked with mothers who had lost a child to cancer. Every single one said death gave their lives
new meaning and purpose. And who do you
think prepared them for the rough, lonely road they had to travel? Their dying child. They pointed their mothers toward the future
and told them to keep going. The
children had already accepted what their mothers were fighting to reject.
The children in the bombed-out nursery in Oklahoma City have touched
more lives than they will ever know.
Workers who had probably given their kids a mechanical pat on the head
without thinking that morning are making phone calls home during the day to
their children to say "I love you."
This may seem like a strange Mother's Day column on a day when joy and
life abound for the millions of mothers throughout the country. But it's also a day of appreciation and
respect. I can think of no mothers who
deserve it more than those who had to give a child back.
In the face of adversity, we are not permitted to ask, "Why
me?" You can ask, but you won’t get
an answer. Maybe you are the instrument
who is left behind to perpetuate the life that was lost and appreciate the time
you had with it.
The late Gilda Radner sums it up well:
"I wanted a perfect ending.
Now I've learned the hard way that some poems don't rhyme and some
stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change,
taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what is going to
happen next. Delicious ambiguity."
* * *
To all the mothers out there who have outlived their children, we at Sweet Pea Project are holding you close to our hearts and wishing you a gentle Mother's Day of Peace.
With love for my child and yours,
Stephanie Paige Cole
