When I had my first child after 4+ years of infertility, I was over the moon. She was such a happy baby, always talking to strangers and laughing and smiling. When her sisters were born, she was always joyful and loved being around them, especially the sister that shared her birthday.
When she was 11, she made me a cake (out of the blue, not even a holiday) and on the top wrote with chocolate pieces “Best Mom Ever.”
I hold on to the early years, because the later years have been so much harder. I miss her, the girl she was, the young lady she was becoming; the happy girl that loved learning, that loved people and friendships and even serving in church.
Her sisters miss her, too. Maybe she even misses the person she was becoming before taking the sharp left turn.
There is always hope. We all pray she finds Jesus, that she hears him. She was raised knowing him, and once seemed on fire for him (was that all an act?).
She once thought of others, was kind and helpful, and loving. She’s smart.
It’s been 5 years now. Some days it amazes me how easy it was for her to just toss us all aside like trash. I do know that constant online gaming for 5-6 hours a day, alcohol, intentional isolation, and even meds can mess up the brain. It’s not irreversible, there is hope, but I am starting to lose mine after 5 years. So are her sisters.
My email address hasn’t changed in 15 years. My phone number is the same. I don’t know either of yours. The ball is always in your court.
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It’s my first Mother’s Day without my mom. Looking back, I wasn’t always good at Mother’s Day, but I always showed up, no matter how I was feeling about life or my mom. I always had a fundamental belief, somehow, that I owed it to my mom. And I did. Biblically, I am to honor my parents…not when I feel like it, but always.