It would soon be Mother’s Day again, and I was dreading it. I wasn’t dreading the day for myself, but for my children who had lost their mother Cindy and two-year-old sister Katie after a traffic accident. Every Mother’s Day after my wife’s death had been shear torture for my family as in church services the congregation took out time from worship to honor the mothers, grandmothers and great grandmothers attending the service.
I didn’t begrudge the families that special time honoring their mothers, but each Mother’s Day ceremony was just another reminder of the tremendous losses my family endured. I knew it was a painful flashback to my wife’s sudden and tragic death. But I still had my mother at the time, and I could only imagine how painful it was for my son and daughter as they watched a carefully crafted, loving collage of photos of other mothers and their…
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