A mother's pain

I returned back from my trip late last night. I have some great adventures from my trip to share with you, however I wanted share some different thoughts today.
On this day eighteen years ago, my twenty six year old brother died in a car accident. I was just eleven years old. I remember the night very clearly. It was just a regular night. I ate a home cooked dinner made by mom, played Sonic on the Sega, put on my Rainbow Bright pajamas, and headed to bed.  However the rest of the night was not ordinary. I woke up sometime after midnight to the phone ringing. My heart was racing, I was in a cold sweat, and breathing very fast. There were lights on in the hall and I could hear my parents rushing around and talking in hushed voices. I was confused at what was going on but just rolled over and went back to sleep.
A few hours later I  awoke once again. This time the sound that disturbed me I couldn't place, but it frightened me. I can honestly say it was the most terrifying moment of my life. My heart was racing once again. I knew something was desperately wrong. My mother came into my room and I realized the sound was coming from her. It was her cry. The cry of a mother in complete torment and sorrow. The unthinkable had happened. She wrapped her arms around me and between sobs uttered the words "Darren is dead."
I don't know how long we hugged for, but after a time she left my room. I laid back down and tried to convince myself that it was a dream. But I knew that that sound, that cry, could not be a dream. It was too raw, too real. After a few minutes, I headed out to the front room to where my family was gathering. I know at one point I curled up on my dad's lap and stayed there for much of the night. It was very comforting to have his strong hands wrapped around me.
I have thought about that cry often. I learned a lot about motherhood from that cry. No sound I have ever heard can rival it. It was pure pain. The pain only a mother could know. The pain only a mother who has given her life in service and love, for her child could comprehend. I believe a mother's love is the deepest on this earth and the closest thing to God's love there is. But with the greatest love brings the possibility of the greatest agony. And that night I heard what that agony sounds like.
On my recent visit home I chatted with my mother for a few minutes about my brother. She has never stopped missing him. She won't forget his smile, his voice, his humor, the way he stood, the sound of his laugh, or the shade of his eyes.  While eighteen years can erase a lot of my little girl memories of my brother, it hasn't touched hers. He is a part of her soul. He is a large piece of her heart, that has temporarily been removed.
Today, for the first time as a mother myself, I tried to imagine what my mother went through instead of remembering through my own eyes. I tried to imagine loosing one of my little boys. I couldn't even fathom the idea of not seeing their faces every day. I couldn't image the hugs and kisses ending. I couldn't imagine not waking up to their little voices. I couldn't imagine life without them.  I started to cry just thinking about it.  I don't know what I would do.  I spend 90% of my time taking care of them, feeding, playing, washing, dressing, diaper changing, reading, etc.  They are my life. I wouldn't have it any other way. And so although sometimes they make me want to pull my hair out when they won't go to bed, or eat any food, my heart breaks at the thought of all of that being gone. That amazing love I have for my boys is a gift that is so worth every frustrating, exhausting, and emotional moment. I pray that I will never have to experience the grief of loosing one of them. I pray for all the mothers who do.  Most of all today I pray thanks that there is a love that is so powerful to bring about such strong emotion. How grateful I am that I have the chance to be a mother. I hope I can more fully appreciate it.