I am a mother of two beautiful little girls. I thought I was the last to go to bed last night and the first to wake this morning, yet setting beside my nightstand were two cards. I didn’t even notice them until I saw my oldest staring at me with a big grin on her face. She can rarely stand to keep a secret. Almost through with kindergarten she is now able to read and write and had written her sweet words on my card. My youngest just barely four, had been able to write some letters of her name and had included a picture of her curly hair and her brain- a picture that looks like scribbles to the untrained eye.
They both wished me a Happy Mothers Day and then the youngest was ready to go back to bed! The other card was from my wonderful husband.
I called my mom in the morning, apparently too early because she was sleeping. My father answered the phone instead and wished me a happy Mother’s Day. My mom and I spoke later, exchanged greetings and the latest news.
Facebook is filled with messages and love for moms.
I feel blessed, truly; yet deep down, there is a sadness that is hard to explain.
I suppose there are many years where I have thought about my birth/first mother on this day. This year it’s amplified. Since I have decided to find her, I’ve thought a lot about what she went through. What she may still be going through. I wonder if this is a day of joy or sadness for her. I wonder if she has any children sending her cards or calling her on the phone. I wonder if she is lonely, longing for the daughter she never knew, never held.
I pray that when I find her she is ready to heal. I pray that when I find her she is ready to move into the future. I pray that next year, on Mother’s Day, maybe I might be able to send her a card or give her a call.
Happy Mother’s Day to the woman who gave me life, and the woman who raised me. I’m grateful for you both.