Everything, Nothing, and I'm a Middle Child

Most of us, when we give birth to a child, have all sorts of hopes and aspirations. Not only for the child, but for ourselves. Some we don't even think about. We believe we will be with this child for the rest of our life, we will love this child unconditionally and the child will know that. We spend many spare moments pondering how our child may be productive to society.

We take a lot of this for granted. And then, for some at least, life apparently gets in the way - or death. And we are not with the child. Or we leave the child. Or our lives are so involved for whatever reason, we simply do not have the capacity to convey our love to our child.

And the child is left wondering. Wandering, bereft of discernment, to steal a phrase.

Oh, my heart aches for those children. For those parents. For the children who are still wondering, decades later as they try to raise their own children.

I organized a "motherless mothers" meetup this week. It was today. Thank goodness only 3 showed. We spent an hour and a half sharing our stories.

Oh, Maman, I'm so proud of you. Family, I am so proud of us. Our pain is not toxic. It is sorrow, borne of love. I'm so happy that I can share my story proudly, knowing that we all stepped up when it was our turn and came together united. I couldn't fathom Papa leaving Maman when she most needed assistance! Or one of us refusing to talk about our memories of Maman. No. Our tale may not be a happy one, but we can certainly know that we have done our best.

At one point in the meeting, I shared that I felt badly for one of the women who simply had no mother figure to reference. She returned that she was thinking that my pain must be so much greater than hers, since I lost a mother I knew and truly loved. I was very touched by that.