As Mothers Day rolls around each year I have mixed emotions. It will be another year without my oldest son and yet it seems to get harder not easier.
It has been suggested from time to time that maybe I should talk to someone because my grief is still interfering with my life. What would they,or could they say that I haven’t heard before? I think I live a pretty balanced life and that there are days each year that are a reminder of what once was. Could I benefit from some new coping mechanisms? Yes… but one step at a time.
I would like to share a poem I wrote about my son who died in labour in 1994. It was published in 1998 by the International Library of Poetry.
Dylan, My Son
My Memories are of carrying my son
Oh, to be able to have seen him turn one
Nine months together is all the time we had
For that I guess, I should be glad
I will never be able to remember his touch
And that just reminds me, I miss him so much
I have felt so angry on many a day
Because those people took my son away
My fight for his rights have just begun
And be sure I won’t give up, until I’ve won
How I would love to get on with my life
To be a mother again, to be a wife.