The Wonder of Her

My beautiful Janessa. My forever baby.

She had her daddy’s nose, jet-black hair, and looked so much like her big brother.

She would be turning nine years old today. 

I thought today was perfect to share this gorgeous portrait of her with you all. It was hand-drawn by a very talented artist that I’ve been following for years. She used a handful of photos that I sent her, along with some verbal descriptions, to create this incredible piece of art. It’s perfect. Janessa was perfect.

Oh, how I wish I could see her now at age nine. We’ve missed so much.

Over the years, my grief has turned mostly into the wonder of her. My mind is continuously filled with the curiosity of who she would’ve been. There are times when the absence of her physical presence is so incredibly strong, that it feels as if her spirit is dancing behind a thin veil along the edge of the moment we are in, allowing me to picture her there with us. Almost granting me the glimpse of her that I so deeply desire and long for.

“Missing you has settled into my bones. What once was fierce has softened. Like a constant melody, your name, pouring through my mind- on repeat. Your memory, the undercurrent of my days.”-Lexi Behrndt

I have learned how to make space for it all- the pain, the grief, the love, and the joy. I continue to love deeply. I chase the joy and never take it for granted. I relish in this world’s beauty for the both of us. And I respect life’s fragility knowing all too well how quickly it can change. I was unable to control the length of her life, but I can control the depth of its affect upon my own.

Another year has passed. Our lives have changed. I have changed.

But what will never change is my love for her.

Agatha Christie wrote, “A mother’s love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity, it dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.” 

Even death stands no match for this mother’s love.

Merciless

“For all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you.” 

She looked so much like her brothers.

Nine years ago today, on May 13th, we learned that Janessa’s heart had stopped beating. In that one moment our lives were irrevocably changed. 

I have been brutally honest throughout my grief journey, and in continuing to do so, friends…today is HARD. No amount of the healing I’ve worked towards can sustain me from the universe’s double gut-punch of today.

Last year, for the first time, her birthday (May 14th) fell on Mother’s Day. It was tough. Trying to celebrate Mother’s Day when all of your children are not with you is hard. Waking up on your child’s birthday without them is excruciating. Having to do both on the same day is brutal. It felt cruel at first and I had a lot to work through to not stay in the dark place that I found myself in. It wasn’t easy but I was able to attain some peace that day.

And now this year, for the first time, having Mother’s Day fall on the same day that my child died is merciless. And folks, I’m not finding the same grace I possessed last year. This year, I’m tired. And I’m fighting through some bitterness. And you know what? I’m okay with accepting where I am with this. I’ve come so far and have fought for so long for my happiness. I’m good with putting down the gloves for a bit and sitting with my grief. I’ve learned to surrender at times, and when I do, I often find some healing. I know this is temporary. I am not ashamed of my need to catch my breath, or of my grief. I will never apologize for it. I’ve learned that you can be broken AND be strong. I’ll get back up, I’ll brush myself off, I always do…it just won’t be today.

And in the midst of all of that, I will still celebrate my motherhood to these three precious babies. Each of them has taught me countless lessons about life, who I am, and what I am made of. They each make me strive to be better, for them and myself. I’m so thankful to be their mom.

I’ll forever be a mother to three.