#120 Not good on Mother’s Day

Hello Friend,

I've been debating whether or not I should share why I'm not too good on Mother's Day. After writing about my experiences in Italy and living in a small town in Sicily, you've been used to hearing about picturesque things, delicious things and other funny or entertaining stories; you may not enjoy me meandering onto less trodden and darker paths.

What I want to write about is none of those entertaining things. Instead, it's about personal trauma and how I deal with it every day. Not many people talk about grief and child loss, so if this is too upsetting for you or you didn't sign up for this, feel free not to read this post or even go as far as unsubscribing because occasionally, I will go to a darker place and decide to write about other things other than Italy.

In this newsletter, I want to write about many different topics. I don't want to curate and edit my newsletter to be all about one thing. This place is about me exploring other ideas and interests, so I will go ahead and do that, and if you want to read, you're more than welcome.

If you are triggered or would prefer not to read about grief, good afternoon, good evening and goodnight.

I'm not good with Mother's Day. I don't think anyone else who has lost a child can ever be a hundred per cent happy with celebrating motherhood when they will always be missing their child. It's an ache that never really leaves you sometimes; it's a dull throbbing you can almost put up with, and you seem to get on with life for a while.

On other days, the grief is so powerful that it squeezes your inner organs and makes the tears well up whether you want to or not, and you have to stop, acknowledge it, and let it all flow out. I thought I could open and close the tap, but your pipes will burst if the water pressure builds up. Who knew grief could be described so aptly with a plumbing metaphor? Life is surprising.

Photo by Alain Frechette: https://www.pexels.com/photo/monochrome-photo-of-statue-1431114/