My Rose

This past Saturday my son served 5:30 mass.  We were blessed to hear the story of a mother during the homily.  The young priest crafted a beautiful picture of love, deep and sacrificial in nature, first between husband and wife and then mother and child.  The message fit perfectly with the theme of the Gospel in which Jesus commands us to "love one another as I have loved you."  The next line of that passage talks of the greatest love - of laying down ones life for one's friend.  Our storyteller wove this thread into his tale as well.

His voice quivered with emotion at this point, since it was his own story being told.

Due to an ongoing illness, his mother - with full knowledge of the possibilities - decided to bear her child at the risk of her own health.   Complications followed the birth, and she was called home 6 months later. 

As the trembling continued in his voice, my own emotion boiled within, as I also know this pain.  Our stories are different in many ways, but the love between a mother and her child is not.

He has a hole in his heart because he never got to know his mother...my hole exists because I did. 

Some 16 Mothers Day's have passed since I lost my own mother, Rosemary,.  Slowly God has filled that gap within my heart, and today there grows a beautiful Rose with its nurturing petals and fragrant aroma.  Unlike my mothers withering body, her soul blooms forever there.

Happy Mothers Day to My Rose...