To a Mother Missing a Daughter on Mother's Day

Over the past 11+ years I have watched the love of my life grow from my beautiful bride into an incredible mother.  I have watched her give birth to three beautiful little girls whom she has loved and nurtured.  She has devoted the past decade of her life to their health and joy and future.  And I am grateful.

In May we celebrate mothers.  Mothers like my wife who are the rock on which these little lives have been built.  We give trinkets and gifts to try to show appreciation for the ongoing daily gifts that they give to us with their love and support.  And the things we offer - flowers, candies, breakfast in bed - are never, ever sufficient.

This first and arguably biggest gift mothers give us is life. They carry a child within their body for 9 months, allowing the baby to develop at the expense and wear and tear of the mother’s body.  And once the baby is here, the gifts continue to flow.  Nursing, rocking, soothing, changing, teaching and loving happens from day 1 and in many ways never stops.

And when childhood cancer enters the picture - the mother doubles down.  She doesn’t give up because it is too hard.  She digs deep, gives up on her personal goals and ambitions, and sits, stands, lays, hugs, laughs, cries and fights along side her child.  She gives of herself all she has, and then gives some more.  Every test.  Every procedure. Every needle poke she experiences and hurts with her child.

And when all options are gone; when all hope for recovery is lost; when the cancer and the therapies threaten to take that first precious gift of life; when the Lord welcomes home His angel, the mother is left to grieve in a way I, even as the father, cannot fathom or comprehend.  My words and hugs and support are sincere, but inadequate.  

And yet from the ashes the phoenix does rise.  From death and destruction grows new life.  From adversity comes triumph.

Melissa, I know the road has been harder than anything we could have envisioned when we started.  I know you are hurt and that pain will never leave.  I know that Harper’s absence from our daily lives will be poignant and painful until we each go on to meet her again.

But to everything Harper did she brought joy.  To every person she met, she gave love.  In every moment of her cancer journey, she had hope.  And I carry with me, as I know you do also, a happiness from having known and loved and cherished her for the time she was with us.

And I truly believe that Harper’s hope, love and joy were gifts she got from you.  

Thank you for being the beautiful woman, bride and mother that you are.  On this difficult Mother’s Day, the first without her, I want you to know that she is still here in the hope, love and joy we embrace in our own lives, and the hope, love and joy that we can and will continue to share with others in her memory.

I love you.

Happy Mother’s Day.