Mothers Day – 2011

There is no word in English to describe that parent who has lost a child. There is no such word in any language. I can only assume that is because it is the unthinkable. It is against nature, against all that should be. And yet it happens. It has happened to me twice.

Both our son and our daughter died in their 20’s as a result of having Cystic Fibrosis. It is over thirteen years since the tragic death of our son. It will soon be eight years from that heartbreaking day when the wretched disease claimed our daughter.

That in total is an agonizingly long time to grieve. Of course we have rebuilt our lives. Yes we have defined a new and altered “normal”. We carry on. We move forward. We continue to do and to be. We even accomplish. But the grief hasn’t left, nor will it.

With that stated, that does not mean there is no joy, because there is. In many ways we find happiness, contentment, peace and yes even humour.

To explain the way humour pops into my world, let me tell you about last night. Here is the scenario.

I was passing time on my computer and I happened across a Mothers Day promotion.

Yes, Mothers Day is coming. That day is like endless other “special” days throughout the year that reminds me of what was, and what isn’t.

But this promotion for Mother’s Day was brilliant. Being fascinated with the tech world, all the elements I saw in this promotion made it call out to me.

A Coffee Maker company called Tassimio launched a technology that allowed “Facebook” users to enter wonderful information about their Mothers. Then that information was to be incorporated into a YouTube video about that Mom. Now how cool is that? Sweet thoughts from your child, a video about it – and the best of all –for the most creative one – both the Mother and the child could win a wonderful new coffee maker.

I’d like a new coffee maker.

This is where the humour – my ongoing black humour kind of kicked in.

Here I am with no children. I know my son and my daughter would have wanted to say nice things about me. I know they loved me. I know they would have wanted me to win the coffee maker.

The temptation to fill in the entry form was enormous. Put in names and emails, a few thoughts and done ! I wondered if I could figure out an email for them – how about Robbie&Jane@heaven.com. I couldn’t help it, I found myself chuckling at the possibilities. And then I realized no one would ever understand my entry form. I’d find myself trying to explain that even though I have no children now the ones I once had would surely have created the winning video just for me. Picturing it all I chuckled again.

Then reality kicks in. There would be no video scripted by my two children. There would be no workable email, no new coffee maker.

Darn. And then… the bigger darn – another Mother’s Day without them.

Mother’s Day will come and go. We will be fine… we will remember what was, and what isn’t.