I sit here with tears streaming down my face.
I went on Facebook this morning while I sipped my morning coffee. I saw a post from a friend who lost another friend to cancer the day before.
I clicked on her name and read a few of her posts.
Of course like most moms, her posts were all about her children. I can’t even imagine the agony she went though knowing that she might leave behind her children one day.
It’s my greatest fear and I’m not a worrier.
I learned a while ago that I shouldn’t waste my energy worrying about things I can’t control and I can’t control much of anything.
I cry these tears for her because although she is now at peace, no more sickness and struggle where she’s going, at least that’s my belief.
I can see the looks on her children’s faces. I can see how sad they are and the confusion they face, losing their mother. One of the people who cares for them, teaches them and protects them.
The person they went to with a scraped knee. The person who probably cooked their meals and packed school lunches. The person who loved them the most. I only know these things from being a mother myself.
I love them the most, I really do and no one can prove to me that it’s not true; although my husband may argue with me.
My intention is not to be morbid. My intention is to remind myself, and maybe you, about what is really important. Love and kindness.
If something were to happen to me and I had to leave my kids (and my husband too!) in this world, I would want them to remember how much I love them. I would want them to know how much they mean to me and how proud I am of them.
The mom I read about certainly proved that to me, in just a few facebook posts about her own children. I’m sure they never had a doubt about her love for them. (And of course, it’s more than just Facebook posts but that’s the only window into this family that I had available to see.)
I’ve often thought about writing a letter to each one of my kids and then hiding it somewhere in house for them to find. But once I’m gone, maybe it won’t matter, so I tell them now, as often as I can.
Even my son, who is now taller and stronger than I am; I wrap my arms around him as often as he will let me and tell him I love him.
He doesn’t crawl into my lap for a snuggle anymore and sometimes, he seems annoyed by the affection but I’ll keep doing it.
It’s always returned with a hug and peck on the check back to me. I know he loves me too.
One day when I’m gone, I hope he can still feel my arms around him.
I believe we don’t tell each other enough, even if it was said 10 times per day.
It needs to be said more often. The actions need to show it too. Even in your darkest hour on your darkest day, you need to know that someone loves you. Someone wants you here. It might be a spouse, a partner, a friend, a child; you are loved.
I’ve never been one to hide my feelings and I may say it more than I should but even when it appears that I’m jokingly telling someone I love them, I mean it.
No matter how it’s relayed, it’s an important reminder that will always makes someone feel good.
I certainly don’t want anyone who may be sick to read this and feel worse. I want you to use the energy from the love you receive to fight it.
Fight hard and win. The will to live is very powerful.
None of us are here forever. So spread the love and kindness around as much as you can now.
As they say, it’s free, so sprinkle that “stuff” everywhere.
Jennifer Lague writes from Derry