Originally posted on social media on May 9, 2021
I didn’t expect Mother’s Day to be such a gut punch. I miss Molly every second of every day. Why should this day be any different? But somehow, the unthinkable worsens. Grief knocked me flat on my ass, leaving me literally gasping for breath for much of the weekend.
The photos that accompanied this post contain some of the beauty that lives next to my pain (smiling faces at the beach, beautiful boys snuggled up together, spring flowers). Proof positive that social media is a facade. If I’d posted them without comment, It would appear that I had a lovely weekend. In fact, I was mostly curled up in the fetal position.
These ARE blessings. My sweet sons who make it impossible to give up. My phenomenal mother-in-law and friends who buoyed me with support and made me laugh last night. Flowers, notes, cards and messages, mostly from fellow mamas, that touch my heart. Breakfast in bed and hugs from Jon and my boys. So beautiful. Yet, the sorrow is fucking brutal.
The juxtaposition of love and loss is ever-present. Gratitude for Molly and literally screaming at the top of my lungs at the unfairness that she’s gone (I startled someone who was out on an evening walk when I stepped outside and screamed into a pillow).
I wonder how we will endure. How we will get out of bed tomorrow. In the next moment, I’m inspired to light up the world, to live BOLDLY. Life is too short for anything less.
I stand in solidarity with everyone for whom this day evokes mixed emotions. You are not alone.