After Gavin's death Mother's day seems to be the hardest holiday for me to cope with. That mommie instinct in me gives me that overwhelming desire to gather all three of my little ones and squeeze them so tightly -- and we all know that's just no longer possible.
I never imagined that I'd ever be a mother -- not to mention this kind of mother. The kind of mother who understands on the most deepest of levels what it means to cherish each and every breath my little ones take. The kind of mother who was given to ability to push through -- to become a survivor of my own life's chaos. The kind of mother that was given a chance to love a child who was not born of my flesh but birthed in my soul and spirit -- a bond that nothing can defy.
I look at my two beautiful little girls and I thank God for allowing me to stand by their side and watch the little details of their lives unfold right before my mommie eyes into this huge amazing thing. In the quietness of my spirit I breathe in the memory of my little boy -- trying to remember the weight of his little body in my arms and thank God for the opportunity to care for him for three and a half years. I'd be lying if I said three years was enough but in so many ways Gavin continues to live in a very present way through the very essence of my motherhood.