Enthusiastically, Dawn

Walking through the loss of a child, is like walking daily into a gut punch. Mother’s Day is one day. It’s navigating the other 364 days that is hard. Each Mother’s Day I am met with many comments and compassionate looks from people, who want to offer their kind regards. I get it. They want to acknowledge that they remember me this day. I can acknowledge to some degree this kindness. I certainly do not begrudge it.

But this man-made holiday is overshadowed by the lifetime of loss I face every single day. Every morning I wake up to a day without my one and only child. Period. End. I endure. And by God’s grace – alone- I persevere.

Grief is weird. People watch from a safe distance. As if it’s somehow contagious. No one wants to mention or bring up at all your dead kid. That’s just the sad and blunt reality. As if speaking their name somehow diminishes the present moment. How different it is for we who have suffered the loss. How we long to hear someone remember. How we long to hear someone ask about them! How we fear their memory is swallowed up by time. And how time steamrolls over their memories, paved underneath the voiced current realities of those on every side.

It’s a hard season that so many endure, Spring. Full of new beginnings, fresh starts, budding growth, graduations, and birdsong. It’s a minefield of melancholy for me. For each season is a reminder of the grad I will never see, the grandchild I will never know, and the beautiful blossoming daughter I cannot see again this side of eternity.

Every day is a motherless day. I guess what I am trying to say, is Mother’s Day is not even a day I stumble over. I can walk through it like nothing. It’s all the the before and after days. I know so many wonderful moms. I had a God-chosen mom who did the best she could with all she herself overcame, and blessed me in many ways.

It’s not the one day that grieves me. It’s every day I am grieved.

But because of the grace of God, the hope I hold within, I can go on. Even when people disappoint. Because, hate to break it to you, this is what people do. We disappoint one another. We fail. We do the best we can until we learn to do better. And chances are we sometimes screw up again. We don’t say the thing, or we say the wrong thing, or we just justify our own stupidity. We are kind of screwy. Something about eyes with planks and all, a prophet named Jesus mentions in the Bible. I like that guy. Turns out he’s a lot more than meets the eye on paper.

So a few things I want to close with. I don’t want anyone’s pity. Trust me, I have had enough solo parties with my one guest Ms. Pity. And I think I can speak for most of those who have suffered the loss of a child, and live with the loss. Probably super-presumptuous of me, but hey- I am one of those screwy, disappointing people who blurts things out like that. But, just know, grief isn’t contagious. If (and when) we want to talk about our loved one, encourage us. Ask questions. Don’t just brush off the words, and skip over that mention. Allow us to remember with you – if we choose. Because I know for me, there are times I want to just share a memory, but it’s painful the brushing off, quick conversation change, awkward, abruptness that follows that magnifies the grief and causes me to go inward. Not always. But too often.

Whether a child is alive or not, the freedom to remember is what is the gift. For if we know and believe that each soul lives on, should we not honor the memory, and speak as if the soul still lives? My child lives on.

I wrote a poem at the start of Spring. I felt it was a divine download. God allowed it to come to me, I pray it encourages the one who reads and receives it.

Why I Dare to Smile

Many wonder how I dare
To smile despite the burden I bear-
How do I do it- can I tell you how,
I live my life in the here and now?

The Lord is my shepherd, my strength, my song
He lightens my load, all the day long
He leads me, and guides me,
Makes my way sure-from within heals my soul
with His holy cure

He holds my hand, and bottles my tears
Makes my paths straight
subdues all my fears
He lifts me high upon a rock
listens for my call,
Opens the door when I knock

He keeps me walking in His Light
Refocuses my mind on what is right
holds in His hands my sadness and grief
from his own pain provides His holy relief

He’s given me all I need
planted and rooted from one tiny seed
the Faith within has taken hold and
by His grace like purified gold

His love for me is steadfast and true
It’s why I go on, it’s what I must do
this little while, my time on earth
defined and lived in the light of His birth

This is why I dare to smile
In this brief mist- but a little while
before He’ll let me return to the home
I long to go but have not yet known.

Thank you for reading. I hope these words were a blessing. Please reach out if you have any questions, thoughts or comments.

Enthusiastically, Dawn