A Bereaved Mother’s Love

Post by Still Standing Contributor Jessi Snapp of Luminous Light Studio

Wider than the earth itself. It is deeper than the most forbidding places of the ocean.

A love that radiates brighter than the sun and pulls just as mercilessly as a black hole. A love that is insurmountable in all regards.

It is a love that transcends time and is completely unrestrained. It is free.

There is a love so sacred, so cherished, and true.

A love that is incomprehensible to the world around.

A love that can exist where others think it wouldn’t.

A love so perfectly intertwined deep within your heart, your soul.

A love that makes the rest of the world look cold and gray because it’s beauty and depth is unmatched. Yet at the same time, it sheds beauty upon the earth that was never before seen.

Nothing compares to this love.

This love – it does exist. It exists and we live to tell the tale of how it can exist even though unseen. With little tangible evidence remaining, it still survives.

But what’s more – it thrives. It grows.

More and more each day this love flourishes and spreads like spring wildflowers in an untouched meadow. The rivers of this love never run dry and the gusts of its winds never cease.

The depth and intensity of such love is the kind you only hear about in fairy tales and happily ever afters – yet it exists in something far from that.

This love dwells in uncertainty and shaky grounds.

It lingers in silent tears and aching arms. It is the light in the most isolated place. It lives to tell the tale of what was and is no longer.

This love rests in the irrecoverable pieces of our souls and the gaping wounds of our shattered hearts.

It sways elegantly with joy in the darkest places of desolation and despair. For even in darkness it continues to grow and rejoice.

It is beauty and chaos released in the same breath.

This love – this unchanging, unwavering, unbreakable love – is that of a broken heart. This love belongs to the bereaved mother. For even in death, she loves endlessly.

For even in darkness, her love is scintillating.

Not even death could extinguish this love, for it is a love like no other. Unmatched and unparalleled – it is truly one of a kind.

The beautiful love of mother and child – put to the ultimate test and stretched far past the breaking point. Yet it remains untouched – only to grow stronger with each pull. The world stands idly by waiting for the bond to break.

For the bereaved mother to let it go – to give up. Little do they know, they will wait for an eternity.

The love of a bereaved mother is a force to be reckoned with. A force so powerful that nothing can stand in its way.

Time nor death can change it.

Sorrow nor pain can break it.

This love – it is our love. It survives where they are not. It is the love that occupies the space in our hearts and in our lives where they once were.

This love saves a sacred space for them. It exists only because they lived. It remains even though they left. It is neither theory nor fiction – it is an incredible, powerful truth.

The love of a bereaved mother is an implausible, fierce, interminable love that defies all odds.

This love is what has taken root in every single cell of my body and pulses through my veins with purpose and meaning.

This love has wiped my soul clean. It has changed my very being.

This love lightens the burden of loss. For it is this love that makes the pain more bearable.

Perhaps, even worthwhile.

Death does not define me – it is life and this love that defines me. It is this love that has changed the course of my life and has separated me from the rest of the world. This love – it is my love.

And for the life of me – I will never let it go. It is the one thing that binds my broken soul. This love – it is what keeps me going.

It is the echo that ripples from all that I do. And all that I am.

No matter the distance, no matter the time – this love is prevailing.

And it is mine.