Dear Sarah, it’s Mother’s Day … again

Do you celebrate Mother’s Day in heaven, Sarah? I imagine it would be the best place to celebrate it. After all, in heaven there will be no more tears, no more sadness…

Mother’s Day here, on earth, falls close to your birthday. Even on your birthday some years. Do you remember the gift you gave me for Mother’s Day the year before you left us? I remember you had a special fair at Norwood Primary School - we were back in Tasmania then. I still have it. No matter how often I blow the dust off, it insists on settling between the rattan fibres and on the faded silk flowers, but the little jute loop that pulls the lid closed is still intact, and the faded-to-a-neutral-grey lace, glued beneath narrow purple piping, hasn’t lifted. It holds my special earrings and sits atop the chest of drawers alongside the heart-shaped ceramic container you made in sixth grade. That holds your watch, a multi-coloured hairclip and other bits and pieces that were yours.

I have a mug that Illy bought too. It’s chipped in places and stays safely in the cupboard now. Illy was only three years old , so of course she couldn’t buy it! But I remember your dad and our friend Steve going into a shop in El Caracol shopping centre in Quito, and both coming out with the same mug. One for Illy’s friend, Katherine, to give to her mum, and the one I still have, that Illy gave me. Funny how some memories stay with us.

This Mother’s Day is another without you and Ileana. Mirry won’t be here either. It’s not really ever been a day for us all to be together as a family. I wonder what that would be like?

So, while Mother’s Day is a wonderful day for many, many families, it’s also a day of heartache for just as many.

I love you, Sarah. Give Illy a big hug from me, and tell her to hug you for me! It’s not the same as feeling you in my arms, but it makes my heart glad to know you are in a good and safe place, and that Jesus will hug you for me, too.

Love, Mum