I didn't cry on Mother's Day. Not one tear. I felt sad. I noticed the missing one. But I didn't cry. That feels amazing since every other Mother's Day I have cried all. day. long. Here we are in the middle of moving, and J found time to MAKE me a Mother's Day gift that was absolutely perfect, and incorporated all of my babies. Mother's Day is always hard because it's so close to Charlotte's birthday, but looking at that line of photos all day helped somehow. (Look at Charlotte's rose blooming outside the dining room windows. It's on fire this year, blooms everywhere) On Mother's Day we packed, and packed, and packed, and then we walked to lunch. We sat outside, and for a while we were the only ones there since we went early on a Sunday, so we chased the kids around a bit to keep them busy, and J jumped out from behind a stairwell and surprised me to pieces. It was bittersweet - as every day without her is - but the tide
This is where I blog about life, love and grief. I have four children, one who watches over me from the skies, and two who have brought much joy to my life after a very dark time. I write about everything from birth to cooking to babies to grief to Jesus.