Mothering Someday

Anyone grappling with loss will know this phenomenon; suddenly something happens and bang you are face to face with the grief. It hadn’t crossed my mind that Mothering Sunday would be particularly painful; life thought differently!

 

I know I’m not a mother but I do love mothers’ day.
The children come to visit bring gifts and brightly chatter,
And now she’s dead anticipation fills me with dismay.

They come at different times with gifts like chocolates, a bouquet,
They fill the house with discourse, laugh, poke fun at me of course.
I know I’m not a mother but I do love mothers’ day.

Oh the weekends they are tricky, and I dread this next Sunday,
Around the world so many mums will revel in their gifts,
And now she’s dead anticipation fills me with dismay.

I know I have to strive to find some methods to convey
From mind to heart resilience so that I can still find joy,
I know I’m not a mother but I do love mothers’ day.

The path of grief is littered so, with perils which betray
The unexpected spaces where she always used to be,.
And now she’s dead anticipation fills me with dismay.

Self pity is a monster that will stalk me as its prey,
But memories and my laughter will shield me from this beast.
I know I’m not a mother but I do love mothers’ day.
And now she’s dead anticipation fills me with dismay.


If you would like to hear me reading this poem then click  here alternatively you might feel your time is better spent looking at pictures of gear wheels, if so click here!!

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