Mother’s Day is hard on all the families who ever lost a child, especially the twenty-six Sandy Hook families. No words can express their sorrow and the huge gaps in their lives where theirs kids should be.
As I have so many times over the years, today I am turning to my mother for comfort. She passed away in early 2010 and I like to think of her alive in another world fussing over Noah. She never met him in real life (they lived an ocean apart and he was only three when she died) but she had been plied with pictures of him and his siblings since the day they were born and she was very familiar with their faces and antics.
We had bought her a digital photo frame and she had put it on a chest of drawers near her TV set. It was always on, even at night. Sometimes it was hard to tell whether she was watching a show or watching her family although pictures of her great-grandchildren always made her eyes shine in a way TV never did. I am pretty sure she has never let Noah out of her sight since he joined her in this other life I like to dream about.
There is some degree of solace in imagining both of them together. But nothing will ever change the fact that Noah should still be with his family and looking forward to a long life on this Earth as should all the little kids who were murdered on December 14th. This Mother’s Day is indeed very hard but then, we already know that all the ones that follow will be just as painful. Wherever she is, I know my mother knows it too and grieves for all of us especially, as I do, for my daughter Veronique, Noah’s mom.
My dad took the top picture in 1948: my mom was 34. I took the bottom one in the summer of 2009: she was 95. In between the two, a lifetime of love. On this very difficult Mother’s Day, I draw my strength from my mother’s continuing and loving presence in my heart. Merci, maman!