There are 11 mothers out there whose hearts are probably wondering. For me, every Mother’s Day starts a little early. The kids are too excited for any sort of festivities, and after all these years, I make a big deal out of it too. A low key deal, but a big deal. I accept all of their handmade gifts with excessive glee, even when it’s 12 hours early. They’ve already brought me treats to eat, and hugged my neck and told me “Happy Mother’s Day!” even though it’s not yet my day. Some of them have told me in ASL, that’s a first this year, and it has made my heart burst.
You came before me though. For me, this day is yours. Wherever you are (and I do know where some of you are), I want you to know that today is yours. We know 7 of your names. 4 of you can only be honored through hope, a hope that someday we might get the privilege of knowing your name.
I think about you all the time. Every day, but today especially. Every time one of them comes to me with their first lost tooth, I think of you. Every time they win an award, I think of you. Every time they ace a test, I think of you. As they move toward adulthood, I think of you. I wonder if they look like you. When did you lose that first tooth? Did you win similar awards? Did you ace similar tests? Is their smile yours?
In the case of Tess, I often wonder if you know she’s alive. Do you know that the sacrifice you made got her the care she needed? She is alive. She is one of the happiest, most optimistic 8-year-olds you will ever meet. If we never meet in this life, I think about the day we’ll meet in the next. I think about what it will be like to hold your hand and say “We did it. You fought, then I fought, and she is there, alive.”
For Bowen, I wonder if you know that here he is allowed an education. Because of the sacrifice you made, he is allowed to attend school, and so much more. How proud would you be to know that he is a Junior Nationally ranked Paralympic swimmer? I wish I could tell you.
Cate is well and whole. The medical care here allowed her the surgery she needed to no longer feel the pain she did when you left her. Her face is beautiful, but we both know it always was. There is probably no one else in the world outside of us who loved her face just the way it was. I truly believe that had you been given the opportunity to stand alongside me during all her reconstructive surgeries that you would have mourned the loss of her “bubble eye” with me. It made our Cate, our Cate. She is a sassy sweetheart then and now. Is there any way you know that?
Gigi has language now. I can tell her the story of YOU. She attends school. She reads. I fight every single day for access to everything she deserves. I do that in honor of the sacrifice you made. Can you possibly know that?
I hope that somehow, someway, you know.
I don’t have any way to honor you other than to keep the door open for you. I will. I promise. We’re here. We hope to find you. And until then, I will fight for them every single day, to give them every opportunity on this earth. I do that because you came first. In this house, you are sacred, and I am grateful.
–FullPlateMom, who is a better person because you came first.