In the past few years, I have connected with women who are mothers grieving over the loss of a child, whether through death or by some other means.
One woman, who I met a few years ago in Greece, lives there on a beautiful island. Her adult son died in 1997, and she carries her sadness with her every day of each passing year. Her full cup of sorrow is a part of her daily living.
Another woman is a friend who lives nearby. Her 2-1/2 year-old son died tragically in late 2008. She too grieves and carries her sadness with her each and every day, along with the child she now carries in her womb.
I met another woman at one of my workshops who had just returned from a long period of lobbying in Washington, DC on behalf of funding for childhood cancer research. One of her toddler-aged twin daughters had died the previous year. Her story touched me deeply as I returned home to my beautiful teenage twin daughters.
And then there’s my Buddhist friend whose 29 year-old son was on trial for murder earlier this month. He’s been found guilty of voluntary manslaughter and awaits sentencing. She too grieves the loss of her child, who will be forever changed by the past events as well as those awaiting him.
Lastly, I recently learned of a friend whose adult daughter died just two months ago. Her grief is a fresh, wide-open wound.
Not having experienced anything even remotely similar to what these five women have gone through, I find it difficult to know what to say or how to support them. Each is in a different phase of grief and each has experienced a unique loss. Yet, what they all share is an empty place inside themselves that will never again be filled by their loved ones–a hole that will forever remain void of the one who is missing.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about these women, especially since Mother’s Day. Two of them wrote beautiful prose about their loss and their grief. Beautiful and heart-wrenching. Joyful memories and painful awareness. Deep, deep, profound sorrow and loss.
All I can offer today is the love that pours from my heart. I send it out in light to surround each of these courageous, amazing women, who go on each day to love the others in their lives and share joy and hope and inspiration with all whom they touch.
I found a beautiful piece of writing by one of my favorite authors, Anne Lamott, and post it here for everyone–mother, father, sister, brother, aunt, uncle, grandfather, grandmother, friend, acquaintance–anyone who has lost someone they loved deeply. May your days be filled with glorious light and your nights filled with protective darkness. May you be comforted by all that surrounds you, seen and unseen. May you be blessed with peacefulness in your lifetime.
“You will lose someone you can’t live without,and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.” Anne Lamott
In light and love!
What a beautiful entry today Donna. You are a wonderful, amazing woman and I am so blessed to have you in my life!!
After writing this, I realized I’d left out one other very special woman who has recently come into my life. She too lost her son. Two years ago, he died tragically, leaving behind a wife, two very young children, his parents and sister. Her spiritual path has carried her through and allows her to support her daughter-in-law and grandchildren. She too is learning to dance with a limp and blesses the lives of everyone she comes in contact with. I am truly honored to have been touched by all these beautiful women!