"Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see." ~ C.S. Lewis
Just because she doesn't talk about it doesn't mean she doesn't remember. I remember the first funeral I attended. It was for my baby brother, and my four-year-old mind doesn't remember a whole lot about that day other than the hearse, the shoebox, and tears. It wasn't until I was a teenager that I realized that even though she didn't talk about that day, she still remembered it. We'd drive by the cemetery, and visit his unmarked grave. If I asked questions, she'd talk. Sometimes we think people don't remember because they don't say anything.
For some, this Mother's Day pain runs deep because they didn't have a Mother who loved and cared for them.
For others, Mother's Day is difficult because of the pain of infertility, and remembrances of miscarriages.
There are those who celebrate the day with unspeakable joy over the miracles that God has done on their behalf.
While I am supremely happy to be celebrating my first Mother's Day with my little family, I know that we were a family even before our little one came along. I'm thankful to be alive, and to have a healthy baby. Just because I don't talk about it with doesn't mean I don't remember. Some things are stored in the heart, and shared with only a few.
The surgery. The pain. The prognosis. The sadness. The friendship found in the midst of sorrow.
The pregnancy. The fear mixed with hope. Feeling like a ticking time bomb. The decisions. The grace. The protection.
Motherhood is a gift. To those wandering without a home, He sets the lonely in families.