Valentine's Day for the Heartbroken.
February 14th is often used as a day to express and confirm the love we have for our people. Our family has never really celebrated much, usually just a small box of chocolates, possibly heart-shaped meatloaf, and, of course, the scramble to complete all the Valentine's cards for school. Valentine's day has never been a huge thing for us, yet the day still brings the heart-shattering reminder of the little boy we lost.
When you are the parent of a dead child even a hallmark holiday feels excruciating. Every day is awful, but any mass-celebrated day feels worse. Knowing my sweet boy wont be here to partake in the traditional, candy-filled day feels horrific. My mind wanders from the missing heart-shaped cards from his friends to the possibility that a brave little girl would express her love. I think about last year, watching my handsome boy go through his Valentine's bag reading the silly poems and eating the sugary sweets. I sat and watched in complete adoration of his beautiful smile. My heart swelled watching his eyes beam as he read the positive notes he had received.
While visiting my memories, I started thinking about the word Love. The definition as a noun is the intense feeling of deep affection. As a verb it is just as intense. We show our love in such different ways. To a parent we would show obedience and helpfulness, to a spouse we would show respect and trustfulness, to a child you would show complete sacrifice.
Through this journey, I have redefined what that sacrifice looks like as a parent. Before my life changed forever, I would have given my last breath so my children could take another. I believed giving my life for my children was true sacrificial love. Now I believe the truest sacrifice is to continue to live for them.
My role as a mother that has lost a child and as a mother parenting grieving children, is to continue to live. My son has the best of this situation. He is living, perfectly, with our Creator. He is healthy, whole and complete. He is not wanting for anything. He's not feeling self-doubt, nor experiencing the hardships of this life. The deepest form of love I could give to my son is to acknowledge the gift of Heaven. I now understand that sacrifice is not laying my life down for my son, nor trading places so that he may live, sacrifice is living this life, so that he doesn't have to. He will never experience the pain of loosing his people, he will never be hurt by evil, he will never feel the sting of disappointment or have his spirit crushed by rejection. It is the truest form of sacrificial love to understand and accept the burden of continuing to live on earth. Waking each morning, and trying to live my best life is the greatest sacrifice I can give to my children both here on earth and in Heaven. Continuing to thrive in this life is a sacrifice. Grieving parents sacrifice the desperate need to just give up, and continue to strive for happiness. Sacrificing my desire to curl into a ball and never see the day, is painful. Every day I strive for joyfulness so that my children know they are worthy of a mother, who is healthy and present.
Sacrificial love does not come easy, but its natural for parents. I would no longer give my life for my children. I now understand the true sacrifice is continuing to live for them.