Mother’s Day

My son and I share a unique life. Both introverts, we feel most at home at home! It is the place where we are protected from the world. Why the need to feel protected, you may ask. Because everyone’s home should be a haven, that’s why.

Yesterday he took me to lunch, but today I asked him not to get me anything but a card. When I got up, there was a Mother’s Day cookie along with a pink envelope with a card in it. I usually tell him I prefer him doing something for me rather than buying me anything. Later we will take a drive and he will show me how to get to my dentist. I now have to pass the new Braves stadium to get there.

It is hard to be the surviving parent and the surviving son. Both of us suppress how we feel about this. It’s just not easily talked about. I read articles in the paper today about reporters who were grieving the loss of their mothers. It has been a difficult life for both of us, each with our own separate reasons. We have not always gotten along. Why? Because it was easier to put distance between us than to mourn.

I seldom write about my son; someone remarked on this. It is because I don’t wish to invade his privacy. But let’s face it. At the age of 7, he lost me, his mother, because I found myself suddenly involved with his sister’s death. Sadly, I could not be in two places at once. He lost both his father and mother and sister to cancer.

When his father was diagnosed with his own cancer, my son was able to spend quality time with him. And now that my husband is gone, he is able to spend quality time with me.

We are together out of choice and necessity. Both different and alike, we have made peace with our sorrows, which run deep and permanently through the landscape of both of our lives. I am proud to say that both currents have merged in to a sea of grace. We honor each other, both with our flaws and our good qualities.

Without grace, there is no sweetness to life. And with it, life itself becomes love.

Vicki Woodyard


  1. Vicki,
    Yesterday I read this, and wept for my Mother, gone now for over a year. The sadness radiated from my heart like love. I was not going to write, but when I clicked on it today and I saw the blouse you are wearing in this beautiful photo of you and your son, I thought I would. Thank you for your words and the love behind them.


    1. I always like it when people write. The heart cannot be deceived; it must be honored. Love never dies, but the human being still mourns a great loss. Let no one tell us otherwise.


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