A Grieving Mother's Day

This weekend is Mother's Day. It will be the second one since losing my only child. I dread it. For weeks prior, I'm bombarded with touching and emotional ads, stories, and more about moms on the radio, internet, and television. I'd have to lock myself in a cave to avoid it. And while that sounds like a pretty great idea at the moment, it's not logical, or possible.
Mother's Day was always special for me, and not because of the gifts, or special attention. It was the one day a year, that my son made sure I knew how much I meant to him. The one day that I didn't doubt my motherhood status. It's not an easy job being a step mother. Anyone who has ever seen a Disney movie knows that it is often portrayed as an evil and wretched role. That was my biggest fear. Children love their parents without question. But a stepparent's love has to be earned. There are no guarantees. I loved my son instantly, and there was an undeniable bond between us from the start. But that bond had to be nurtured, and cultivated, in order to grow into something more. I never doubted my son's love for me. He was wonderful about that. But I always doubted whether or not I was a good mom to him. That I gave him everything he needed in that role. On Mother's Day, he always had a special way of letting me know that my doubts and fears were unnecessary. And the older he got, the more profound and meaningful they were. That was his gift to me. The assurance that I was a good mom. That I was HIS mom.
After you lose a child, people will tell you that you're still a mom. That you'll always be a mother. But for those of us who lose our only child, it certainly doesn't always feel that way. Sure, we still have motherly instincts, maternal feelings, and unconditional love. But we no longer have an outlet for them. There are no more booboos to kiss, no more words of wisdom to impart, no more proud moments to witness. It's like someone set a timer on my motherhood, and the countdown has ended. When people around you talk about being a parent, they often treat you as though you have no knowledge or experience on the subject. Maybe it's because they forget that you do, or maybe it's just easier than bringing up your child. Whatever the reasons, it is extremely painful. We raised a smart, independent, funny, warm, caring, hardworking, helpful, wonderful child. We watched him grow into an amazing young man. Please don't deny me that.
This Mother's Day, while some will wake up to breakfast in bed, I will wake up from the nightmares that plague my sleep, of my final moments with my son. While women everywhere are being treated to affection and gratitude, my arms will be empty, and my heart still broken. This is a Grieving Mother's Day...

                                         Precious memories and moments with my son...