To the Other Motherless Mamas

If you've ever looked at your rounded baby growing belly and thought I'll never be able to do this then you're in the right place. If you've ever stared at pictures of your mama when she was in high school and wanted to know what it would be like to ask her how to do this mama-ing thing, you're not alone. Me and you? We're soul sisters and all the hurt and loss that we've felt over this motherhood job is a bond that we share.

I know that someone should have said it to me as a 12 year old girl, but no one did. The loss of your mother will ache with every year passing, like an old wound never quite healed, and it will leave you wondering about whether or not you can do anything right. You needed her and she left when you needed her and she won't ever be there when you need her. It will hurt at every momentous turn of life. Your high school graduation. When the man of your dreams gets down on one knee. Every plan leading up to your Wedding Day. The moment those lines turn pink. When your first born is laid on your chest. All of it will hurt right down to your toes and you will feel like a piece of you is missing because it broke right off in the midst of your young life. 

I know these hurts sisters. We are the motherless. We know the power of motherhood. 

We know the power of motherhood and I know that is why we hold on so vehemently to the calling on our shoulders. A mama imprints herself onto our DNA in a million ways and once she is gone the lines woven in double helix don't fade a bit. Have you been walking stooped under grief and loss? Our ability to mother is found in Christ and we have to let Him parse the hurt of loss away from His gift of grace. Sometimes those two things can't be unwound. Our DNA can't be unwound from hers. 

You are no less a mother than our sisters who call their mamas their best friends. Grow your mama's memory and plant it deep in your family. She is with you. She is in you. She is the legacy you embrace when you embrace your children. 

She taught you more than you think you remember, more than she ever had time to share.