Happy Broken Hearted Mother’s Day

Even though it’s been over 40 years, I still remember my 1st Mother’s Day after I lost my son, Richie, who died in April about a month before Mother’s Day. As I walked into the small church I’d been attending for over 5 years, the ushers were giving each mother a single pink carnation. When I began to enter the sanctuary, I stood in front of the usher waiting for my carnation. No flower filled hand was extended towards me, no eye contact was made. No words were said.

I stood for a moment, waiting. Waiting for my simple little carnation that identified me, honored me, as still being a mother. This man knew my son well, my only full-term child. He knew he lived. He knew he died. Yet, he offered me no carnation.

I asked him if I could have a carnation and he said, “They are for mothers only.” Yes, he really said that. I was hurt, I was shocked, I was angry, I was sad. I struggled for a moment as to how I should respond. I offered up a silent prayer before I opened my mouth and said something to the effect of, “I want you to know I am just as much a mother as all the ladies who have their children sitting in the pew next to them this morning. My son can’t sit next to me, I wish he could. I would give anything if he could. But he’s in Heaven and sitting in a pew with an empty space where your child used to be is the hardest thing any mother’s heart can do especially today.”

The usher still made no eye contact but also didn’t give me a carnation, maybe out of sheer embarrassment or lack of knowing what to say. So, I very gently took a carnation out of his hand and thanked him. He softly wished me Happy Mother’s Day.

To those of you who also know this pain you may feel like there’s no longer such a thing as a “Happy” Mother’s Day. But I say there is. The joy — the happiness — is having had our children to hold even for the briefest of times. May God bless your broken mother’s hearts this Mother’s Day!

Jackie Deems copyright 2022