You’re stronger than you should ever need to be.
Your tears and grief show the absolute, unending love that you have, and will always have for Simon. They show your heartbreak and your emptiness. Your longing for our situation to change. To go back in time to before the worst, most painful night of our lives.
I, we, have dreamed of the day that we would celebrate you as the mother of our two children. And today we do. That makes the heartbreak even more real and even more raw not having one of them to hold, to dote on, to care for on YOUR day.
This Mother’s Day is a reminder of what we don’t have.
But it’s also a reminder of what we do.
I’ll never forget the night that you became a mother. 29 hours of labor. An epidural that didn’t work at all. Nearly two hours of pushing, finally a crying baby, and I told you we have a little boy.
As Nolan sleeps in his crib I know what we have. And because I know what we have (and what we have is a truly amazing little boy who loves his mommy everyday everyday, so much), I also know what we don’t have. We don’t have the family we were so ready for. We don’t have Simon.
Today, Nolan, Simon and I celebrate you because even though today isn’t what you wanted or what we should have, it is still a day to celebrate your strength, your love for your boys (all three of us) and most importantly you…the love of my life and the best mom Nolan and Simon could ever want.
Hopefully Simon knew that. I truly believe he did.