Forever In Our Hearts: For The Moms Not With Us On Mother's Day

"She was the most attentive, nurturing, selfless and loving mother a girl could ever ask for, during all of my life ... my best friend."

The message Janice Wavershak wrote honoring her mother, Mary Agnes Bergmann "Kay" Sheedy, isn’t unlike thousands of others popping up on Facebook and Instagram today, as children all over take note of the women who gave birth to them, guided them and gave them a positive foundation for adulthood. And I smiled when I saw it.

It was the other piece of her message — and several others I received that were similar — that hit home for me.

"I was blessed with only 28 years with her but will forever be thankful to Jesus for those years and the beautiful special memories she provided me with during that time," Janice wrote, sharing photos of herself and her mother that were taken in a photo booth in Seaside Heights in 1970.

While many people have spent this rainy Sunday showering their moms with flowers and dinner and praise for all they’ve done, there are just as many who are honoring their mothers in their hearts, and feeling an ache because she is not with them.
Whether that loss was very recent or years ago, Mother’s Day can be difficult for those whose mothers have passed away.

It was a common theme among Patch readers who took a moment to share messages (you can read them at this link) when we invited people to honor their mothers.

"Happy Mother’s Day Moms. Be thankful, missing mine this year," reader Rick McKelvey wrote in a response to the Neighbors post. "My very best friend," Lisa Wall wrote (no relation), and shared a photo of herself as a baby with her mother. "She lost her battle with breast cancer at age 55. How I miss her so much."

Terri Craven shared a photo of herself and her mother from 1999, when they were on a trip on the River Lady for her mother’s birthday. "I lost my mom in 2012. I miss her so much," Terri wrote. "Happy Mothers Day in Heaven Mom. I Love You."

Our moms are never with us long enough. I was 30 when my mother died; she was 53. Not long before my mother’s death, my mother-in-law lost her mom, who was in her 80s. Though her mother was much older, the sense of loss was undeniably similar.

The milestones that have passed in the 22 years since my mother’s death have been tinged with sadness in different ways, but Mother’s Day has been one of the most difficult. Like those who responded to the call for photos, my mother was my best friend. Her death happened less than two weeks before my wedding. She also missed the birth of my daughter five months later — a particularly bitter pill, because being a grandmother was something she had eagerly anticipated. She had gotten her first taste of being Grandma when my niece was born just five weeks before Mom died. I still can hear the giddiness in her voice as she told me my brother's daughter had arrived. "I can’t wait until your baby is born," she told me that night. Five months later, I sobbed as I sat in the hospital room with my newborn daughter.

The following Mother’s Day, the first without my best friend, without the woman who taught me how to be a mother, was almost as crushing as the initial loss. I had cherished the idea of being a mother and a daughter at the same time; I felt extremely cheated at not having that special moment. It took time, therapy and support to get through it.

That isn’t terribly unusual, according to a Psychology Today report. Losing a parent can lead to increased risks for long-term emotional and mental health issues, especially for someone who loses a parent at a young age or doesn’t have sufficient support to navigate the bereavement, studies have found, the report said. Those who are closer to their parent and a perception of how much that loss has changed their lives can intensify the bereavement, the report said.

Twenty-two years later, I still miss my mom on Mother’s Day, but it’s not the searing pain of that first one. There are places I find comfort; friends who have lost their mothers are a source, and I have found great comfort in a Facebook group called Motherless Daughters, for women whose mothers have died. It has been a resource and a reminder that I am not alone.

There are more formal support groups through many local churches, and the state of New Jersey has a listing as well; you can search here. The website What’s Your Grief? offers information to help you find the support that works best for you.

Our mothers may not be right here holding our hands, but they are with us because they live on in our hearts, as Prince Harry and Meghan Markle noted in a message celebrating Mother’s Day, the first since their son, Archie, was born last week.

"Paying tribute to all mothers today - past, present, mothers-to-be, and those lost but forever remembered," reads the caption on the photo of the royal baby's feet. A reporter who covers the royal family in Britain noted the flowers in the background of the Instagram photo are forget-me-nots, which were Princess Diana’s favorite flower.

As for my own mother, this Erica Jong quote captures a lot of who she was: "My mother wanted me to be her wings, to fly as she never quite had the courage to do. I love her for that, and I love the fact that she wanted to give birth to her own wings."

My mother struggled with doing many things alone. She went from her parents' home to being married to my dad, and never did much truly on her own. Things many of us — including me — take for granted, like traveling alone, became increasingly difficult for her as she got older. In 1996, however, six months after I took a job in California, she fought through her fears, got on a plane and flew cross country to visit me. because I was missing her terribly, and she missed me. It was a wonderful week together, touring Northern California and talking for hours on end. It was the last time I saw her alive.

She taught me everything she knew about being a mom. She taught me love and compassion. And she took great joy in my adventures, even when they took me far from her. I believe in my heart that she sees my adventures now and still is cheering me on.

Just like every mom who has left us too soon.

“Until I am reunited with her again someday, her gentle love and memories will fill my heart always,” Janice Wavershak said of her mom.

May memories of that love bring those of you who are missing your moms comfort — today and always.

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