Mother’s Day


Mother’s Day. The one day a year when we can sleep as late as we want, get everyone else to do our housework, and not have to change a diaper, cook any food, or lift a finger. I used to plan it for weeks ahead of time. It was like getting one wish from a Genie. I had to make sure to incorporate everything I wanted in a single statement. “What do you want for Mother’s Day?” That took some thought. “I want…everyone to be silent so I can try to sleep late, and then I want coffee and a book in bed, then I want to get dressed without any interruptions while you all clean the entire house and do the laundry, then I want to go get <flowers? plants? new bag? shoes? perfume?>, while you all compliment me on how wonderful I am and how much seeing me being spoiled warms your heart, then I want <to go to favorite restaurant> <have you cook my favorite meal> while I read my book and come to the table when dinner’s ready, and then I want you to clean the entire kitchen, finish the laundry, while I go lay in bed and read my book.” Last year I sat outside reading my book while Nolan painted my toes. He didn’t say a word other than “This is harder than I thought it would be.” Then he sat with my feet in his lap and we talked. I don’t remember what exactly we talked about, but we just sat in the sun, sharing some time. I appreciated it then. Now it means absolutely everything to me.

“What do you want for Mother’s Day?” My Darling Husband knew not to even ask the question this year. He wrote me a beautiful card that made me cry. He told me we could do whatever, go wherever, and buy anything I wanted. He asked if there was anything I wanted for Mother’s Day. “My son.” That’s all I wanted. That’s all I want.

I woke up to a silent house, knowing DH and Li’l N (and his friend I had let sleep over the night before) were doing their best to let me sleep. The tears came before my eyes opened. I couldn’t stop them. I didn’t try. I pulled myself out of bed, got my coffee and book, took one look at my DH and crumbled. He simply wrapped his arms around me. What else could he do? He couldn’t say anything and neither did I. I took my coffee and book into my Selfish Nook and cried alone. I couldn’t stop crying for hours. It wasn’t until I saw my beautiful daughter and grandson pull in the driveway that I got up and decided to move. They went outside to play, and I took a shower and put clothes on. I cried in the shower as I usually do. I cried while I was getting dressed. I sat on the floor and cried before I went to hold my grandson. I was surrounded by love, but all I could really feel was the emptiness. I miss Nolan so much that words don’t do justice the feelings. It’s a physical pain like no other. It’s an emotional pain that shears you to your very Soul. I didn’t want to go anywhere or do anything. I just wanted the day to be over. I asked Li’l N and my beautiful daughter if they would go with me to visit Nolan. At first they said no. I know it probably wasn’t fair to even ask, but the only thing I really wanted was to have all of my children with me. The closest I could come to that was having them sit with me in the cemetery.

It was a beautiful 80 degree day. As I sat at my child’s grave, I felt cold. I felt empty. I felt beyond lonely. I saw only Nolan and the place he should have occupied. Then I felt DH come behind me and put his legs against my back. No words were spoken. It was a silent, “Lean on me. I will hold you up.” Grief has been an incredibly lonely, separate Journey for us. We lost the same child but our experience of him was vastly different. The way we feel that loss is different. We are going through the same thing, but alone, all alone. That simple gesture comforted me in a way nothing else has been able to. I opened my eyes and saw the bigger picture. 0510151634-1 I wasn’t alone. DH stood with me, literally supporting me. My other children were right there with me. Silently holding space for me, for their brother. My Grandson was there with his pure joy, showing us that even in our saddest, most sorrowful time, there is still wonder in the world around us. I am so very blessed to have these Souls with me on this Journey. I am and will always be a Mother of 5, no matter where their Spirit dwells.

2 thoughts on “Mother’s Day”

  1. Loving you and hoping these moments of the big picture come more and more for you, that you truly know you are never alone…that there are so many holding space for you and holding you up physically, emotionally, energetically and spiritually….You are a mother of 5 and nothing can take that from you…I know Nolan was right there with all of you..Surrounding you all in love and light ❤ Always ❤


  2. Dear Amy, my dearest friend and colleague during the years I spent in New York was named Sandy Valerio. The joy that he and his wife Sue felt upon the birth of their first child Michael was something to behold and be part of. I used to hold Michael in my arms when he is around 18 months old and just dance around the room with him to the music of Brahms. I could feel him give himself to me and Sue and Sandy always left the room in an act of great generosity. I used to pretend that he was mine!! Paul came along two years later. Tim came along ten years later. Sandy was the most talented all around musician and fellow choral director on Long Island Sue was runner up for a position with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra which at the time was generally considered the best in the USA, an opinion that I shared. Michael was a combination of both their talents and was incredibly gifted. Sue was a terrific cellist. Michael took up the bass and loved to compose as well as get into Jazz. Sandy was an excellent jazz pianist, fine trumpet player and a good athlete in high school. Mike was the musician and Paulie became an excellent high school athlete Sandy was not particularly loved and evoked a lot of jealousy. He could be very difficult, even to Michael and Tim. He trusted me and thought that I had exquisite taste in music and exquisite taste in people. Suffice to say, he had a painful childhood. Timothy was the apple of his eye. Michael is now “the” bass player in the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra under the direction of Michael Tilson Thomas who told Sandy and Suz that Michael was the man. He is also doing great things in Jazz. Paul went into education and is a fine teacher. Back to Timmy. Sandy and I had lunch at our favorite place in Huntington for great Gyros. He told me that he felt guilty for being so tough on Michael and Paul and began to cry. I told him to stop being so hard on himself because the boys understood and loved him. He said he was going to spoil Timmy rotten. I understood! Tim was an angel that absolutely EVERYONE loved! At Norhport High School, he could do no wrong. Michael and Paul adored him. He was 24 when I had that talk with Sandy. Sandy always loved motorcycles and always tried to go for a ride with him. He said it was “so freeing”. I was afraid! Tim was not! Tim had ADD and was on melds that really helped. When Tim turned 27, he told Sandy that he was taking the motorcycle for a ride. The dreaded phone call came an hour later. Tim had crashed into a tree and was instantly killed. He had fallen asleep from the meds. The whole town was in shock. The high school choir sang at the funeral. Michael couldn’t handle it and ran into his car and cried hysterically. Sandy blamed himself, because it was his motorcycle. He just couldn’t stop crying. I had already moved back here. I spoke to him on the phone and he just could not stop crying. One year later he was still crying. Finally, I said to him that all of his crying and all of his tears were not going to bring Tim back. I told him that he still had Michael and Paul and that he had to start living again. Paul was married. One year later they had a beautiful little boy and named him Timothy who has brought them back some inner peace and a great deal of joy!!! Ronnie Cohen

    Sent from my iPad



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s