May 18, 2009
Mother's Day 2009
In my post about Mother’s Day, I made quick reference to some of the sweet moments of Mother’s Day. I thought I’d let you all in on a couple of them. There really were many, all things considered.
First of all, we had Morrow’s dedication at church. When I think back to last Mother’s Day, when I couldn’t even bring myself to go to church, knowing it would be too painful, and compare it to this year (being able to not only go, but stand up in front of people and participate in a dedication service), I realize that God has done a lot of healing work in my heart.
Of course I cried. That’s part of what I do. And that’s Morrow’s Granddaddy doing the dedication—another sweet moment of the day.
The words of dedication go like this:
Morrow, together with your parents who love you dearly, and this people who care about the outcome of your faith, I dedicate you to God. Surrending together with them, all worldly claims upon your life, in the hope that you will belong wholly to God forever.
One of the things our church does to recognize the heaviness of a holiday like Mother’s Day is distribute white roses. They have vases of them at the front of the church for people to take to commemorate their losses—whether it’s your mother, your children, your desire for children….
Doing it this way means that no one is singled out or told their pain isn’t significant compared to another person’s pain. Anyone can take one—I love that.
Here we are with our red rose (given for the dedication) and our white rose (to remember our Felicity).
Ater a Mother’s Day lunch and hanging out with Abraham’s mother, we went to the cemetery as a family.
I even laughed and had some fun on Mother’s Day this year.
It’s not abandoning her to smile and laugh. It doesn’t mean I’m over her death if I enjoy certain aspects of motherhood.
I hate that she’s dead. I hate posing by a gravestone for Mother’s Day pictures. But I love her. And I think it honors her to laugh sometimes, just as it does to cry sometimes.
Mother’s Day, all in all, was better this year. Of course it had it’s tearful moments and heartaches. Of course it had laughter and enjoyment. All of it mingles together for a mother who loves her dead and living children.
“It’s not abandoning her to smile and laugh. It doesn’t mean I’m over her death if I enjoy certain aspects of motherhood.”
So right, Molly, and beautifully put. I’m so glad there was joy on your Mother’s Day.
I do love the BBC baby dedication service. My new church does much of the same, including using the exact text you quoted. Such a sweet blessing to speak over our children.
So much love from Florida – Jess
I prayed for you and Abraham on Mother’s Day. God was faithful again in his answer to my prayers. I wrote a similar post
after the service on Mother’s Day.
Love the idea of the white roses!
That look on Morrow’s face as he looks at his Grandaddy is precious!
It was an honor to be there. We enjoyed Morrow’s happy utterances.
Re “It’s not abandoning her to smile and laugh” I remember when my original dad died when I was in fifth grade feeling guilty at joy that I happened to experienced during that first weekend. I want go back and say “This is good. This is normal. This is healthy. It is a gift from God.”
sounds like it was a beautiful day, molly. thanks for sharing so honestly and vulnerably – it takes a courage that few possess (myself included), but i know is such a help to many.
i love the white rose idea — i’m going to suggest that to my church for next year.
and oh my WORD, are your kids cute!!!
Absolutely Beautiful! I was home with 2 sick kids on Mother’s Day. Kempton brought my white rose home.
Well, I was doing fine until the second to last paragraph. Now I’m crying. Thank you for the reminder to be thankful and enjoy my living daughters while you wait to be with your sweet girl.
such a beautiful post!
Thank you for this post- I have so enjoyed reading your blog since I found it a few weeks ago.
I love the white roses. So beautiful.
The first Mother’s Day after our first daughter died was probably the single worst day of my life, except the day of her death. Even thought it’s been 4 years, and we now have an almost 2 yr old, Mother’s Day is still hard. I miss my baby girl and always will.
Thank you for sharing.
Molly.
I appreciate your thoughts. They resonate with me.
I’m glad this Mother’s Day was a better one for you…though still (and always) bittersweet. How special that John was able to dedicate Morrow. I love that picture.
We were at another church watching another baby dedication so we missed your special dedication
Last year we had the red and white roses for Levi’s dedication and for our lost little ones…and the year before was the first time I had been there for the white roses and it surprised me so much I was in tears for much of the service. This year I missed not getting one. Amazing what a difference a year…and then 2 can make.
I think Mother’s Day will always be a bittersweet day, but it’s good to remember and good to love, even when it hurts.
Molly, I’m a quiet reader / follower of your blog and I just wanted to thank you for this post. Our second son would be four at the end of this month. Mother’s Day is a bittersweet day of remembrance. My husband and I and our family serve overseas and will be returning home in the days ahead. Part of that reason is my realizing since being here that I have a lot of healing left in my journey. After my first year / year and a half, I just kind of stopped dead in the water and didn’t fight and seek after God’s full healing. So keep on pressing on. Thank you for sharing your heart as it encourages my own on this continuing journey.
On a lighter note…(as I said on Facebook) I really think Morrow is thinking…come on Granddaddy, flip me, it is your coolest trick and we have a pretty big audience!!!:)
You’re a beautiful writer–thanks for sharing your heart with us in blog form!
Your kids are so stinkin’ adorable. I love Morrow’s face when he’s looking at your father in-law. SO CUTE!
That first photo is so sweet!
[...] 19, 2009 in Tuesday SAS One should never feel ashamed about honest joy or honest tears. [...]
molly… just a few words to thank you for sharing so deeply with us all. i was in vegas, of all places, today for work and read the post in my email inbox and found myself crying and caring and wanting to love [everyone] more than i do. it is amazing how God uses “the body” to encourage and uplift one another in so many ways… blogs included! thank you for being real and for blessing God’s name while being real.
Hallo…..a very nice posting…. I want to transfer your idea to my church.
Sorry long time I want to share to christian woman of america.
I am very surprise when read your blog and comment, ..o lot of american love God love Yesus……. becouse inindonesia we get a wrong information about american.
I am proud of you ……your life for family that means love God…..still our heart to Yesus…..and give love for everybody.
I always pray for american…. although i don’nt know you………..becouse i have red that a lot of women there get abuse and loss…….
A nice photo and …..God bless you
Linda in Kalimanantan indonesia…. Please Molly come to my blog and give commen ….. i still learn to make blog.
Thank you.
Thanks for this post. I couldn’t bring myself to go to church this Mother’s Day, but I am so, so grateful for the reminder of hope in the midst of sadness.
What a real representation of life. Thanks for sharing yours! You are a blessing
I love the white rose idea. It’s very gracious and helps buffer a whole contingent of people from what is meant to be a joyous day.
This is a beautiful post, Molly. What you are doing here, writing about grief and God and healing and aching, is quietly profound. God’s glory just leaks all over the page.
Thank you for sharing your heart. This Mother’s Day was the last time I felt our unborn daughter Olivia kick. I am wondering if Mother’s Day will always be scarred with a certain kind of sadness. You give me hope that maybe that sadness will someday be mixed with laughter.
[...] like I said in my post-Mother’s Day report, there’s sadness and joy on the same day, sometimes in the same [...]
Molly, thank you for sharing your sweet heart and your vulnerability.. I keep being told “Seth would WANT you to go on and experience joy” and I KNOW that.. and it is NOT “disloyal” to him to enjoy the moments of motherhood I have now or find joy in some of life’s simple pleasures.. It can be hard for ME to find that balance for myself though..
Hugs to you!
Molly, I just want to thank you for allowing us to see you in your grief. I have been following your blog since Felicity passed. Today, my dear friend lost her baby girl to a stillbirth at 36 weeks. Tears are streaming down while I reread your posts. The pain that you experience has allowed me to more faithfully and meaningfully minister to my friend. Thank you for sharing.