As Mother’s Day Approaches

Those who are on Facebook are familiar with the little reminders that pop up on an almost daily basis.   This time of the year, many are likely receiving reminders of Mother’s Day posts from years past.

For many, Mother’s Day isn’t all roses and breakfast in bed.  It’s happiness and sadness intertwined.

Here is a memory that recently popped up on my Facebook page.


Melting This Mommy’s Heart

After 5 months living in our new home, I finally tackled all the containers that I shoved into our coat closet.  I pulled out containers of coats, hats, gloves, pictures and home décor.  Since I’ve gotten one wall painted and ready for décor, hubby got out his tools and began hanging things.

As I was going thru all the photos I had displayed in our Illinois house, I came across a picture of Ben, our son who passed away in 2010.  It’s a photo that both hubby and I like quite a bit and we decided it should be put in a new frame and displayed on the wall.  However, not having an appropriate frame, I laid the photo aside.

Later in the evening, Naomi was sitting on the floor holding the picture of Ben.  She was examining it carefully and I asked her to please put it back with the other photos.  She did as I asked and then picked up paper and a pencil.  Soon she was asking me how to spell different words and I wondered what she was up to.

When she finished, she dropped her note into hubby’s lap.  It read . . . .


Hubby asked for a little clarification.  Naomi was simply saying she was sorry Ben died and wanted him to know that she has a good life.

Big time mommy heart melt!!!

Mother’s Day, Not Always a Day of Celebration

Today is the day we honor our mothers.  It’s a day set aside for moms to laugh, to smile, to enjoy being treated to a nice meal not prepared by a mother’s hands.  For some though, it’s a day of mourning.  It’s a day of looking around the table and feeling sorrow for the empty seat that was once occupied by a loving son or daughter.  For some, it’s sorrow for a womb that has remained empty.  A void, a longing for a child.  For some, it’s sadness for the child a mother was unable to raise herself.  For some, it’s the grieving of a mother that is gone or a mother estranged from the family.

I understand the importance of Mother’s Day, especially to my children.  A day for them to give me gifts and to treat me to lunch (with daddy’s help).  A day of learning to better appreciate me as their mother.  At the same time, this day is a day of real sadness in my home.

Today I think of one mother in Guatemala and one in Ethiopia.  Mothers, who every day think of the daughters they were unable to raise.  I think of these women every day, especially today.

-Jody Landers #Adoption

I also think of the mother of our foster sons.  Her life isn’t something I understand, but I do believe she is probably missing her boys today.

Today I feel the loss of my youngest son more than usual.  The last time I saw him alive was Mother’s Day.  It was May 9, 2010.  The next day he was gone.  For me, this is much more the anniversary of his death than it is Mother’s Day.  It’s not a day I want to celebrate.

If, for whatever reason, you are not celebrating Mother’s Day today, please know you are not alone.

"A mother's grief and mourning knows NO end, her love---NO boundaries." ~TeriAnn Sargent / "Every Angel Parent can face the ultimate tragedy and survive. It's the day-to-day living, after the fact, that will bring you to your knees." ~ B. J. Karrer of Grieving Mothers/FB [Click here - ] Mother Grieving Loss of Child - Thursday's Therapy - Surviving Mother's Day






Sometimes I catch a glimpse,
In softened waves of blue
My child, my heart  …when I see a smile
I can’t help but think of you

Sometimes these  waves fill oceans.
And feelings string on every shore
A collections of  each memory
And every way I wish for more

Sometimes I watch for  answers
Because each day I call to you
I ask for faith and courage
And  strength …to help me through

Sometimes I ask for bravery
Like dolphins  in the deep
Because time moves oh so slowly
And some times the road is  steep

Sometimes I want to scream
This was not what I had  planned
Why you ever suffered
A mom can’t understand

Sometimes I  hear your laughter
And remember you at play
But My Child I always miss  you
Not sometimes, but everyday
by Colleen Ranney

Ben August , 1988- May 10, 2010
August 4 , 1988- May 10, 2010

Looking for Ways to Help

Dave and I have causes that we’re passionate about and every once in a while something new comes our way that touches one of both of us.  Here is one such cause that has touched me.

Please take a moment to read the blog post I wrote on my Barefoot Books from World of Weeks blog.



May 9, 2010 – It was Mother’s Day.  I had a visit with two of my 3 older boys that afternoon.  We had brought Naomi home 6 weeks earlier and were working through the adjustment and trying to find the new normal in our lives.  Our youngest son had just returned home from a trip to Oklahoma with a friend and prior to the trip had made the decision to move in with the friend and his roommates.  He was home for the weekend to see me for Mother’s Day and to pack up his things.  Late in the afternoon as he headed out the door he said, “I’ll be back later.”

May 10, 2010 – I was giving Naomi her bottle before her nap when someone rang the doorbell.  I went to the door to see a police officer and another gentleman at my door.  I opened the door and they introduced themselves.  It didn’t click at first when the gentleman introduced himself and I thought he had asked for Ben.  Then he repeated his name and said he was the county coroner.  My heart stopped.  I don’t know how I stayed standing, but their they stood telling me my son had died.  My baby boy was gone.  He was 21 years old.  He was trying to get his life together and now his life was over.  This is a parent’s worst nightmare and I was living it.   We were trying to find our new normal with Naomi in our lives and now we had to find a new normal without Ben in our lives.  I’ve tried to make sense of it many times over the last 2 years, but there is no way find sense in your child’s death.  A child’s death disrupts the normal balance of life.  He was supposed to outlive me, not the other way around.

For months I cried each and every day.  I wanted him back.  I still want him back, but the loss has and is becoming easier to bear.  No, my life will never be the same.  I will forever have a Ben-shaped hole in my heart.  The edges of the hole are no longer raw and in constant pain, but the hole is and will always be there.  The scars that are forming will forever cause moments of pain, but the pain is becoming easier to handle.

Recently I came across something someone wrote about their life after losing someone they loved.  It so eloquently describes these moments of pain.

“What I realized is that when you lose someone you love, you have to say goodbye to them not just at the moment they die but at every crossroads of your life and theirs. They are bound up into a thousand daily moments of your self, and you have to deal with the pain and confusion of losing them at each of those moments. Every act of the day, every near and distant spot on the road of your life that you formerly shared with them, in each of those times and places you have to give them up all over again.”  Author Unknown

May 9th and May 10th will forever be crossroads in my life.  They will forever remind me of the last day I saw Ben alive and the day I realized I would have to somehow say good-bye.  I’ll get through these days with a lot of tears and with each passing year I hope to also get thru these days with some smiles as I remember all the wonderful moments we shared together as mother and son.

I love you Ben and miss you so very much my beautiful baby boy!!!!

18 Months Later

We are connected,
My child and I, by
An invisible cord
Not seen by the eye.

It’s not like the cord
That connects us ’til birth
This cord can’t been seen
By any on Earth.

This cord does its work
Right from the start.
It binds us together
Attached to my heart.

I know that it’s there
Though no one can see
The invisible cord
From my child to me.

The strength of this cord
Is hard to describe.
It can’t be destroyed
It can’t be denied.

It’s stronger than any cord
Man could create
It withstands the test
Can hold any weight.

And though you are gone,
Though you’re not here with me,
The cord is still there
But no one can see.

It pulls at my heart
I am bruised…I am sore,
But this cord is my lifeline
As never before.

I am thankful the cord
Connects us this way
A mother and child
Death can’t take it away!

Author Unknown

Gone Too Soon, A Mother’s Pain

This blog post has been rattling around in my head all day.  Even now I don’t know exactly what it is I want to write, so for now I’ll just write and hope the words make sense.

Most of my blog readers know that we lost our youngest son almost 15 months ago.  Nothing can ever prepare a parent for the loss of their child and there really are no words that can take away the pain.  Yet, kind words do ease the pain and do give comfort, even 15 months later.

Time does do it’s job, although slowly.  As time has passed, the grief has lessened or at least become more bearable.  However, it’s still there and it raises back to the surface during those moments, those days or those events that cause us to think, feel and remember the child we’ve lost.

For me, today has been that moment, that day and that event.  You see, 23 years ago today I gave birth to Ben.  He arrived 3 weeks early at 6 lbs and 18 inches in length.  He was a beautiful baby who grew to be a beautiful little boy and a handsome young man.  He was in this world early and then he was gone too soon. 

I have felt a mother’s pain that has at times been unimaginable.  A pain that has taken my breath away.  I will forever feel those twinges of grief and pain.  I will continue to think of him every day.  I will forever love and miss him.  And as time continues to do his job, I will find that the tears I now shed when I think of him will turn to smiles.  Time will one day allow me to even laugh when I think of the funny things he did or said.  But that time has not yet arrived and I think of him today with tears as I remember the baby boy I held for the first time who is gone too soon.

Happy Birthday Ben!  I love you and miss you more than words can adequately express!!

Beautifully Stated

A FB friend posted this quote recently.  I decided to post it here because I could never find the words that more adequately describes the last eight months of my life.

“Do not judge the bereaved mother.  She comes in many forms.  She is breathing, but she is dying.  She may look young, but inside she has become old.  She smiles, but her heart sobs.  She walks, talks, cooks, cleans, works in a numb state.  She is here, but part of her is elsewhere for eternity.  Her life will never be the same.  She lost a piece of her future when she lost her child and will never be the same.”

Author Unknown