And I admit that this holiday (is it actually a holiday?) is fraught with mixed emotions for me--and for every mother who has lost a child. (I'm sure the reverse is true too).
I remember the first Mother's Day after Grace died. It was less than a month later, and I was still reeling. In shock. In the most excruciating pain I've ever felt. Some of you have read my essay about, like a phantom limb, my arms ached from not holding Grace.
How did I get through that day? Surely
Sam smothered me with love. Surely everyone did. I was, after all, still a mother. To Sam, yes. But to Grace too. And it's that realization, that acute loss, that strikes every Mother's Day. My beautiful, smart, funny daughter. She loved Charles Addams cartoons, the Beatles, and drawing. Every night, as dinner was winding down, she would climb into my lap and rest her head on my chest. Her voice was husky, like mine. If I close my eyes and sit in silence, I can almost still hear it.
To all of you who have lost a child, I hope your memories helped you get through Sunday. And I hope too that the other people you love helped too.
To that end, here's a couple pictures of my zany kids. We spent the night before in NYC at Sam's show (after a truly yummy dinner at Il Buco de Alimentari: Go!) and then cold beers outside at the White Horse Tavern on a very hot night. And Sunday breakfast with these two, before heading home with a car full of food from Han Dynasty for Gogo.
