The day was busy and sweet and different than any I have ever experienced. We hosted our small group (that isn’t very small) that morning. I had donut (muffin) holes to serve with coffee and juice. Cam had a great set list to play. The girls blessed me with handmade cards and gifts. They even gave me Tupperware popsicle maker things like the ones I grew up with, so they can make the same kind of memories I have of my childhood.
But I didn’t cry.
You see, every Mother’s Day for the past 13 years has been marked with tears. A broken heart for the child that made me a mom. The one I never got to celebrate Mother’s Day with. The one I didn’t get to see grow up. This year, it was different. It was good, but it was sad. I can’t decide how I feel. I almost feel as if I should cry. I should hurt. Because if I don’t, maybe that means I don’t love her as much. But, as I type this, I feel like I should recognize it as a gift.
A sweet, sweet gift.
I am one blessed woman. I have had the pleasure and joy of being a mama for 13 years. To four very different girls. I have the best examples of what a mama should be in my mama and Cam’s mama. They love us unconditionally, sacrificially, and with everything they have. They love Jesus. They adore their husbands. They let us leave, with their granddaughters, to embark upon an unknown life. And they did it with grace. I couldn’t ask for better or for more.
I am so thankful for His good gifts, especially on this day!