in the event i end up being the only member of a writer’s group i attended last night without children, i wrote the following to share. maybe!
like we discussed during our first meeting, you never know what’s going on in or has gone on in someone else’s life. i’m not a mother in the traditional sense and what i’m getting at may really surprise you!
while i’m not always sure about what’s in store for us once we die, i am positive that there is a special, beautiful and loving heaven for those children whose lives end before what we believe is their time.
yy daughter brianna would’ve been 8 years old this coming december 7th. i’ve watched other people’s children learn to walk and talk. i’ve watched other people’s children getting ready for their first days of school. i’ve seen books that i know she would’ve loved and clothes i would’ve loved to buy for her. i’ve bought toys for her for christmas and given them to hubby for his american legion’s annual toys for tots drive. i’ve lit candles in churches for her on each anniversary of that horrendous day in my life and on her birthday. i have a journal in which i write to her when i feel the need to reach out to her.
my mourning has only begun to ease with this passing year. i still think of her nearly every day and talk to her often. since leaving her father over 3½ years ago, many of the decisions i have made (including that one!) have been made with her in mind. many children want to make their parents proud or parents want their children to make them proud of them. i want to make my daughter proud of me! i know i haven’t fully accomplished that yet and i think it’s a long time coming, but i’ll keep at it for as long as it takes! (“it” being a good, healthy, productive life).
Shortly after hubby and I were first together, we watched the movie “mystic river” and the absolute raw emotion of sean penn’s character, who loses his daughter, broke me down. at the end of the movie, i said, “i guess, no matter how it happens, you never get over losing a child,” and burst into sobs. that’s when i told hubby about brianna. one of the many wonderful and amazing things he told me when i was done was that if we have children, we’ll tell them of their sister in heaven and they will love her and honor her as we do. on mother’s day, he holds me if i cry and wishes me a happy mother’s day.
when my friend michelle and I were discussing our pre writer’s group jitters on the phone yesterday afternoon, i said, “i’m not a mom.” she said, “yes, you are!” i said, “cats don’t count!” she paused, then said, “you lost your daughter, right?” i said, “yes, but…” she said, “i’m sure many of the decisions you make take her into consideration, right?” i said, “yes.” she said, “you are a mom! that’s what mom’s do…” i thanked her and told her how much i truly appreciated her saying that. i didn’t tell her just how much it touched me and that i was actually teary eyed for a long while after we hung up! not may people, whether they have children or not, can look at my situation like that.
while this is only part of my story, part of this specific story, it’s something I felt was worth mentioning to the group, not for sympathy or pity or kudos, but perhaps for understanding.
like i said, i may or may not share this with the writing group!
like we discussed during our first meeting, you never know what’s going on in or has gone on in someone else’s life. i’m not a mother in the traditional sense and what i’m getting at may really surprise you!
while i’m not always sure about what’s in store for us once we die, i am positive that there is a special, beautiful and loving heaven for those children whose lives end before what we believe is their time.
yy daughter brianna would’ve been 8 years old this coming december 7th. i’ve watched other people’s children learn to walk and talk. i’ve watched other people’s children getting ready for their first days of school. i’ve seen books that i know she would’ve loved and clothes i would’ve loved to buy for her. i’ve bought toys for her for christmas and given them to hubby for his american legion’s annual toys for tots drive. i’ve lit candles in churches for her on each anniversary of that horrendous day in my life and on her birthday. i have a journal in which i write to her when i feel the need to reach out to her.
my mourning has only begun to ease with this passing year. i still think of her nearly every day and talk to her often. since leaving her father over 3½ years ago, many of the decisions i have made (including that one!) have been made with her in mind. many children want to make their parents proud or parents want their children to make them proud of them. i want to make my daughter proud of me! i know i haven’t fully accomplished that yet and i think it’s a long time coming, but i’ll keep at it for as long as it takes! (“it” being a good, healthy, productive life).
Shortly after hubby and I were first together, we watched the movie “mystic river” and the absolute raw emotion of sean penn’s character, who loses his daughter, broke me down. at the end of the movie, i said, “i guess, no matter how it happens, you never get over losing a child,” and burst into sobs. that’s when i told hubby about brianna. one of the many wonderful and amazing things he told me when i was done was that if we have children, we’ll tell them of their sister in heaven and they will love her and honor her as we do. on mother’s day, he holds me if i cry and wishes me a happy mother’s day.
when my friend michelle and I were discussing our pre writer’s group jitters on the phone yesterday afternoon, i said, “i’m not a mom.” she said, “yes, you are!” i said, “cats don’t count!” she paused, then said, “you lost your daughter, right?” i said, “yes, but…” she said, “i’m sure many of the decisions you make take her into consideration, right?” i said, “yes.” she said, “you are a mom! that’s what mom’s do…” i thanked her and told her how much i truly appreciated her saying that. i didn’t tell her just how much it touched me and that i was actually teary eyed for a long while after we hung up! not may people, whether they have children or not, can look at my situation like that.
while this is only part of my story, part of this specific story, it’s something I felt was worth mentioning to the group, not for sympathy or pity or kudos, but perhaps for understanding.
like i said, i may or may not share this with the writing group!
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