Mother’s Day Request
Yesterday, my kids sat at the kitchen table chatting and eating their varied takeout orders while I lay in bed playing Mahjong Solitaire on my phone. It had been a while since they were all together just enjoying each other’s company as siblings, rather than merely being shuffled in the same vehicle from one location to another. As I began to drift into a late afternoon nap brought on by the calm and contentment of the scene, I realized that my daughter’s recurrent question from the last couple of weeks finally had an answer: I already have everything I need and want this Mother’s Day.
About 4 AM I began to think about my grandmothers. Both lost children before they died themselves. I considered how confusing or bittersweet days like Mother’s Day could be for the mom who has lost. I don’t recall either of my grandmothers speaking about the loss they suffered when their children died, but sometimes my paternal grandmother would dress quite suddenly and insist that we venture to the cemetery. She said nothing as she stood there facing the tombstone. I said nothing, averting my eyes because I could not handle her tears, no matter how silently they fell. But I did stand there with her, an unsure but willing companion, until she was ready to head back home.
I inched toward Bible Study wondering about Eve, the first mother to lose a child. When Abel died, there were no support groups or online forums. How did she manage the horrific grief of losing one son to fratricide and the other to forced vagrancy as punishment for his sin? I went searching and found this:
“Adam had relations with his wife again; and she gave birth to a son, and named him Seth, for, she said, ‘God has appointed me another offspring in place of Abel, for Cain killed him.’” (Genesis 4:25, NASB1995)
The naming of Seth was a reminder of the losses she suffered, but Eve also had knowledge of God’s grace in the gift of Seth’s life. Not all moms who have lost have other children, but even if they do, they still remember. The duality of being both sorrowful and grateful is a strange part of the human condition. And for those of us, too, who know the grace of God on this Mother’s Day and are content in the stillness of blessing, I pray that we lift up our sisters who are suffering today. Let our gratitude be a catalyst for encouragement and love and empathy for them. Let us plead for them in our prayers today, asking that God allows His peace to rest on them. Amen?
Memos from the Middle 