The Mother of All Mothers

Today....Good Friday....I can't help but think about Mary.  If there ever was a mother who knew the grief of losing a child, it was her.  Not only did her son die, she watched him die a barbaric death that He didn't deserve.  It was the ultimate case of unfair.  Even with her knowledge of what was to come, I can imagine the horrifying grief she endured those days and the disbelief that would follow....

In losing my son, I found my Mother.  I found the Mother of God who when I couldn't talk to God, I could go to her because she understood.  She held her dying child at the bottom of his cross, and I picked up my cross when I held my dying son in our hospital NICU department.

So on this day I can't help but to stop and say a prayer of Thanksgiving for the gift of my spiritual Mother who would wrap me in her mantle, hold my hand, and quietly remind me that she understood as the tears ran down my face.

Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary,

 that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection,

 implored thy help, or sought thine intercession was left unaided. 

Inspired by this confidence, I fly unto thee, O Virgin of virgins, my mother;

 to thee do I come, before thee I stand, sinful and sorrowful. 

O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, 

but in thy mercy hear and answer me. 

Amen.