In my dreams, this Sunday:
I would sleep in and wake up to the smell of bacon being cooked by Rich and my dad, along with the smell of French vanilla keurig coffee (moms favorite). I’d hear them in the kitchen, my mom laughing and telling them how she wants her bacon cooked. The kids would run in to wake me up, Rich would walk in with a cup of tea. I’d slowly drink up my tea while watching the food network. I’d eventually come out and we would all sit down together around the table. Me, Rich, my mom and dad, the kids. This is how it was supposed to be. This is why we built an in-law apartment, so we could all be together.
My Mother’s Day will still be beautiful, I have already been spoiled by handmade crafts from the kiddos and gifts from Rich. It will be a beautiful day.
I will still long for and grieve for that dream, but I will also have a lovely Mother’s Day. Feelings of sadness and joy will find their way to fit together, while bits of each take over at times.
Love to all, one day at a time,