Grief intertwines itself with Mother's Day in a unique way within my story – with this year having another level of complexity.
This is my 22nd Mother’s Day without my mom here on earth, and it still stings. I miss being able to talk to her still. I'm not sure this sense of loss feels much different than it has for a while, but since I am now navigating the grief of losing a spouse, I can more easily tap into the sorrowful feelings and emotional memories.
Mixed into my grief on Mother's Day is the fact that I don't have kids. It's mostly common knowledge that Josh and I navigated a lot related to infertility and challenges in hopes of growing our family – a process that spanned over a decade. Within this, I am face to face with the acknowledgment that I am also still grieving that unfulfilled part of our story. My heart goes out to many people who have faced or are currently struggling with infertility. I can relate to the heartache that comes with the questions and unfulfilled hope especially on Mother's Day.
Shifting the conversation and narrative, I also can’t help but think about the beauty found in this day. The beauty evident in the many amazing women who are incredible mothers who have experienced their own share of heartache. For me, these women include my family – my grandmother, step-mom and mother-in-law, along with numerous friends who impress me often with the way they love their kids.
This year, specifically, my mind focuses on my mother-in-law, Kim, who probably doesn’t really want me to write a blog about her. But I am (at least a little).
Kim has been my bonus mom officially for nearly 18 years, but I was hanging out at her house way before that and she loved me like her own from day one. This past year, this strong woman sat with me in the hardest of times. We cried together and often tried NOT to cry together, especially in public places like Chuy's (photo). She continually showed up and loved both Josh and I well during each twist and turn.
We will always share an extraordinary bond in the fact that at root, our love for Josh has always been grand. I know this Mother’s Day will also be hard for her.
So, if I could dedicate a Mother’s Day like an old song on the radio, I would dedicate this one to Kim.
Imagine, the DJ Casey Kasem saying, "This one goes out to Kim in Republic, Mo . . ."
You are an amazing Mom and are greatly loved!
Hi! It's Jenn Brown, writing my story that is now slightly different as we enter a season of new grief. On September 30, 2019, my dear husband Josh passed away after battling brain cancer.