Another letter to our never-born children:

Dearest Mary,

If learned to say I am sorry to you in all the languages of the earth it would not be enough. Even if I could say I am sorry in the language of your heart, the language of heaven it would not speak the sorrow of my heart. You, I think, will not understand because you are already with our Father, in the place where there are no tears and no sorrow. I have lost so much more than you have. I have missed so much in not opening the gift of your life the Father had prepared for me. You would be a young woman now if you had walked this earth. I see you in the beautiful young bodies and fresh faces of others’ daughters. I have missed holding your fat little baby body and putting you to my breast. I have missed your baby laughter. I have missed combing your hair, wiping your tears, and bandaging your knees. I have missed picking your clothes and you picking on me for mine. I have been lonely for you to share girl things and laugh at girl jokes. I have missed worrying about you when you are sick and my heart beating wildly when you are lost for a moment. I am sad not to have taught you to bake, and to knit and to camp and to pray. I am sad that I have not known your sense of humor and your passions. I missed you becoming a woman and the disagreements between as you separate from me, and the pleasure of mature friendship as you return to me. I miss holding your babies that shall remain, as you are forever, unborn.

Until we meet in our Father’s arms,
I love you,
Mom

~ by reader Nancy T., with permission.


As invited in this post on "returning to our roots".