for you, searcher.....

In loving memory of John and Melissa...
In honor of mothers everywhere...

A Mother's Heart
JoAnne Rademacher

I was at the funeral of my son's fifteen-year-old friend. The mourners all sat in a state of stunned disbelief, for his death was sudden and shocking. As the service ended, my son and his classmates filed out of their pews and formed an honor guard in the center aisle for the casket, clergy and family to pass through. I was sitting directly across the aisle from my son, and as I watched him step into the aisle, I felt a rending in my heart and a sob caught in my throat. For that fraction of a second time stood still, and I imagined the casket held one of my own. As quickly as it had vanished reality was restored, and with it a sense of relief and a prayer of thanks for my good fortune. My son stood tall and healthy before me.

At the same time, though, my heart was torn. Another mother's heart was breaking, and I felt somehow that the tear in my own, rent in that moment of surreal grief, remained, an almost tangible reminder of an imagined loss.
In the months that followed that wound in my heart did not go away. I still felt that I knew, at least to a minute degree, what devastation had been left in the heart of a friend.

I tried to reason it away. After all, I did not lose my child. How could this feel so real to me? The words "a mother's heart...a mother's heart" passed through my mind repeatedly. It was as if there was a message in those words-something I was supposed to understand, but couldn't. I only knew that another mother's heart and my own were inexplicably connected. The why and how of it escaped me still.

Now, years after that small breach was left on my "mother's heart," I know all too well the total devastation which was only hinted at as I stood at that funeral of a young friend. Because less than a year later my daughter died in a car accident.

One of the first people I saw at the hospital that night was our young friend's mother. As we stood in each other's arms, I finally knew the full reality of a truly broken heart. And as time passes ever so slowly, those same words "a mother's heart...a mother's heart" still echo through my consciousness.

A mother's heart: so fragile yet so strong. The loss of my child has wounded me so deeply I hesitate to give words to the pain. At the worst of times it is as though the splintered pieces of my shattered heart are millions of tiny shrapnel, bursting outward, shredding my body and soul. At the best of times there is a dull, constant ache reminding me of what I have lost.

Amazing to me, though, is the strength I have found in my heart. I am still here. I can give comfort in spite of my pain. I can love, laugh, and enjoy simple pleasures. There must be a portion of my heart where the splinters are being held together by the Lord Himself, for there is no other power which could protect even a tiny scrap of my brokenness.

Now I know the message of those words and why they continue to come back to me. I am reminded that it is a joy and a privilege to have been gifted with my precious children for whatever time I am blessed with their presence, however short it may be.

A mother's heart...designed by God to withstand the ravages of humanity and blessed with His love in the joy of bearing His children. Even as I taste the bitter salt of my tears, I offer praise and thanksgiving for this, my "mother's heart," for the joy in it is mine forever. The grief and pain of today will be forgotten when on that day of God's choosing, I join the daughter I share with Him in the embrace of my Savior's loving arms.

Speaking of the salt of your tears,

I read this thru' the salt of mine. Flipper, you cannot know how much our lives have just intertwined.

I have had a treasured friend for 28 years. She and I met when both of our children were but 4. Hers with a rare disease involving blood vessels much too small. Mine with a brain tumor on the pituitary. Both Catastophic illnesses. We loved our beautiful babies, nurtured them through the most horrendous times, all the while remaining friends , trying to support each other, arranging times to share between our children and ourselves - through divorce, men-friends, child -rearing, births, her brother 's suicide, my parent's death - well---28 years of life. And in February of this year (the 12th to be exact) Johnny died. I thought I was going fall completely apart at this news. My own two children watched me crumble as they had never seen me. They were shocked and frightened that I would "lose it" to such a degree. My son Sam was 24, and my Nichole 32. Both were at home. Nichole because of her illness, and Sam, because of her illness. Sammy never felt he could leave us alone with such a great burden for us to bear alone ( I say burden because it was - the illness was a burden to Nichole, to me , and to Sam. But it was the illness, not Nichole. And Sam and I both knew this - sorry to say, I don't know if Nichole thoroughly understood this). I grieved horribly for "little John" (as he was named after Big John, his father) . He fought so long and hard for his life - he was expected to live no longer than 9 years. But this also was a tribute to my friend Bonnie, who took such excellent care of her boy that he lived to age 31. I was in such remorse, I cried daily, hourly, we spoke on the phone almost all the day. I sadly could not afford to go to her side and also could not leave my Nichole. So we went through Johnny's death by phone. Bonnie took me to his bedside while he lay dying by phone. She took me into the garage to smoke, freezing, and oblivious to it, needing that cigarette to calm her nerves. WE paced the floors, by pho;ne. And at last, he died, and I heard by phone. Then we went to the funeral - by phone. And after, and after, and after.

On April 14th, at 1:30 in the morning, I heard a cry from Nichole - (a seizure cry, which was normal for her) and lay to listen if it was going to be severe. It was not. It stopped immediately. But then I heard nothing else. No rustling of covers, no nothing. So I went to investigate and found her blue. I gave her cpr, to no avail. Paramedics came and eventually got a heartbeat, but she had been without oxygen for so long that her brain was gone. A week later, we let her go. 26 hours of agonal breaths, Nichole's body succumbed to death.

This seemed so cruel, and so coincidental, that Bonnie and I could not process this...We both were staggering . Trying to make sense of such craziness, but Sam said, "Well, this was preordained marriage in Heaven!" So. Ok. We bought that. Sounded good to us. Better than anything we had thought up.

And today, we are still processing this. Our first birthdays without our children, our first holidays.....our empty nests (Sam went to live with a girlfriend, partly out of need, since I now live 30 miles outside of the city and he works in the city)and your words ring true. They were such gifts. And I have posted this before, but out of Nichole's mouth, " I am a gift to this family, whether anyone knows it or not!" (Her fiesty self, but speaking of extended family, not Sam and me). Of course Nichole and I were of the same cloth - I have said that we fought daily and loved daily - and this was true. We enjoyed our fights - we would talk loudly and punctuate our beliefs adamantly believing we each were "right' - but later, it was always loving arms, apologies and I'm sorries. And back to reading in bed - where I would fall asleep and Nichole would gently say, "MOM, you're sleeping on me, could you just move a little?" So I would.

A mother's heart. How true. And how I thank you, Flipper.

Flipper and Searcher...I can't think of anything to say to either of you that would suffice...just know that I am truly sorry for your losses.
From another mother's heart to yours. Peace.

Flipper and Searcher: Thanks for sharing your stories.

Thou words are not adequate to express our condolences for your losses, I've always said: "Only a mother understands a mother's heart". And it proves true in your stories.

I thank God for the privilege of motherhood and for giving me as a mom the strength I need daily.

May God continue to bless and strengthen each mother, because truly, a mother's heart endures what no other heart endures.

searcher, we have a lot to talk about!!! i have to go run some errands right now but will be back later. know that you are in my thoughts and prayers today.

bluebird and songbird, thank you for your kindness. a mother's heart is a real piece of work, right?!

You betcha...made exclusively by the heart of God...

Think about how much WE love our children...

then think about how much GOD loves us. It is overwhelming to comprehend the breadth and deapth, and width of God's love.

That's what I think about whenever I feel like I'm having too much anxiety or fear about one of my kids. They belong to Him.

Western, Songbird, Danita,

Thanks so much.

Flipper and Searcher,

You both expressed yourselves so well. Maybe you could write a book together about the loss a mother goes through. Maybe it could be titled, A Mother's Heart. Maybe God led you to the place in this way, so the two of you can help others find a way to make it through this intolerable pain.

Blessing and love embrace you.
Vi

[ November 09, 2005, 02:41 AM: Message edited by: Vi ]