Motherless Sunday

A forlorn statue, displayed at Glasgow’s Kelvingrove. The little girl has lost her mother, the man his wife. They seek comfort in each other’s embrace, knowing that the dearly departed will not again be seen in this life. By marriage and blood, she is a part of them, yet death has severed that proximity.  

Grieving for a mother may be only marginally more bearable than grieving for one’s child. Mothering Sunday is coming up on the calendars. It is a custom I loathe. Not only does it force us to recall troubled memories, but it is a painful needling to all who grieve departed children or parents. 

The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart. Psalm 34:18