What is the condition of my heart?
I imagine each relationship in my life occupying their own unique spot in my heart. However, it would appear that I was born with a mother’s heart so it makes perfect sense to me that my children individually hold the largest and deepest spaces.
While I love many others and truly treasure those relationships, I have always put my children first. Even now, I have no regrets that my heart obviously has three favorites. We all have our own motor which pushes us. My motor runs in mother mode and everything else is secondary. Is that a healthy way for me to live my life? Maybe not but I am so repulsed by individual ego driven lives that I much prefer my boring ordinary life being defined as my role as a Mom.
There is a new perspective that accompanies the loss of a child and I have become numb to many of the variations in life. Yet if anything threatens my children, I immediately go into warrior mode. By now I can attest to how callous and uncaring my reaction to other people’s challenges may appear. My only explanation is that as a broken-hearted Mom and family, I compare every situation to the loss of a child. I would have given my own life to save my child so that has been a zinger of a gauge for measuring other people’s problems or excuses now.
Despite what losing Amy has done to my complicated beating heart and ultimately to my life, the gift of her fierce gentle love has been worth the pain I will carry until my own heart stops beating.
While my heart gently weeps every day as we (my heart and I) continue to mourn who we were before Amy ran ahead of us, I remain grateful for the ability to love my child regardless of where she exists now.
Thank you, heart, for continuing to beat when I surely thought you would stop and for allowing me to love around the invisible wound left by Amy’s sudden departure.
My heart and I are broken, yet miraculously we are still here working together in some odd way.
Always, always loving and remembering Amy.