I walked today in the yard, enjoying the several varieties of Lilacs after a beautiful morning rainstorm.  Lilacs are a Mother’s flower.  They always remind me of my Grandmother and my Mother, and days gone by.  They sometimes make me a little sad too, their fragrance pulls my heart to sad places.  Today I’ve been thinking about my Motherhood and my children and about the ones who aren’t here in our family right now.

I have 9 children.  Only 3 of them were carried full term.  The rest are gone away from here for now.  But they are still my children and they are still in my heart and are a part of my Motherhood.  Sometimes a walk in a garden is a good thing for a Mother.  It’s a reminder that like God, we are creators.  There is beauty and peace in a garden.

But today, there was also a sad feeling.  There are neighborhood kids who cut through our yard every day as they come and go to friends’ houses.  These kids pass by the Lilac and Snowball bushes.  They like to pull handfuls of blooms off the bushes and they must throw them at each other because today the thick green grass was strewn with wilted blooms in purples and whites.  A snowball fight with spring flowers.  It made me feel sad to see these beautiful handfuls of flowers wasted before their time.  Plucked, disconnected from their life-giving bushes.  Like my other children.

I am a mother of 9 children.  It’s a heart-wrenching thing to see a beautiful creation dying before its time.  My heart has been broken many times.  Today, in the garden, as I saw the wilted blooms on the ground, and smelled their fragrance, I was reminded of the tears I’ve shed for those who left too soon.       

Dates when my children were plucked too soon:
28 October 1992
30 June 1993
22 November 1996
8 September 1997
25 April 1998
11 June 1999

My Angel Babies
Life began in one bright instant–
Eternal light to earth did come.
A spark of life, a gift of love,
A blessing to our waiting home.

Who would this tiny baby be?
A noble son, with shoulders broad?
A daughter, kind, with helping hands?
A child of ours, a child of God.

The hopes, the dreams, the yearning prayers,
The years of waiting for this one
Now turn to joyous peace and waiting
For this babe, beloved one.

Then suddenly wrenched from my womb
In blood and pain the babe is torn.
A life goes out, a heart is stilled.
My mother’s broken heart now mourns.

How can I bear this pain again?
Another gone before he came.
My babies leave, my torn heart breaks.
Will they come to me again?
Will they come to me again?

–Ann Lewis, September 1997