I am a mother. My baby is in heaven.
My angel son is my reason to celebrate Mothers Day.
To remember my son, and celebrate his life.
While he only lived for a short time, he was loved unconditionally, and brought so much hope, happiness, and allowed me to grow. His passing has changed me, and my outlook. I walk now without my rose coloured glasses on. I knew the world was not always good. I knew this before, but this time, it touched me. My soul has been reshaped. Broken and taped back together. My heart still bears the stab wounds, stitches loosely holding it all together. My shield is heavy to hold. Sometimes I need to rest it down. The next arrow of pain can get through. I leave my self vulnerable. Or do I? Do I have to put on a brave face all the time? Hold my shield with shaking arms and legs? The pain that comes through, I never want it to leave entirely. It’s the same pain I felt when Bear passed away. That is our pain. When I feel it, we are together again. The pain of loving someone so much, and having to say goodbye. I never knew I was capable of feeling something so strong.
Everything I do now, I do with my son. He is always with me… in my heart, in my thoughts… I carry him with me, always.
These simple reminders make me feel better. When I am having a bad day, I look down at my wrist. Trace the outline of my Mother and Child knot. Trace over the numbers of his birthday. My bear. His blanket.
To my son,
I loved you yesterday, I love you today, and I will love you always.
Spread you wings and fly.
RIP my angel.