Navigating Mother's Day After Child Loss: Finding Hope in the Darkness

Mother's Day Without My Son Finding Light After Darkness

Posted: May 10, 2025

The sound of sneakers squeaking against the court floor. The swift movement of his long limbs as he raced down the basketball court after the referee's whistle. That look of intense focus I came to recognize throughout his basketball career. Today, sitting in our eerily quiet home on the eve of Mother's Day, these memories replay continuously in my mind like his favorite highlight reel.

When Mother's Day Becomes a Day of Grief

Just a few short years ago, Mother's Day meant planning special brunches together. My sons would surprise me with heartfelt cards, thoughtful gifts, or homemade breakfast. I smile remembering how my youngest secretly competed with his older brother to see who could prepare the best meal—a friendly rivalry only they knew about. Sometimes we'd visit their favorite restaurant that served those red velvet pancakes with lemon cream cheese icing—the same ones my son would still happily order at 22, his face lighting up just like when he first discovered his love for basketball at age seven.

This Mother's Day will be different. No pancakes to share. No text messages filled with too many emojis. No basketball shoes carelessly left in the hallway. No playful debates about basketball legends or team rankings. No laughter echoing through our home. Only precious memories that I'll cherish forever.

This year, Mother's Day arrives painfully early—just nine days before what should have been his 23rd birthday celebration.

Confronting the Questions Grief Forces Us to Answer

Throughout these 357 days since suicide took my basketball-loving, joke-telling son who brightened every room he entered, I've discovered there's no roadmap for this journey. No strategy guide for when the person who gave your life direction is suddenly gone.

Even the simplest questions now feel impossibly complex:

• "How many children do you have?" becomes a question that catches in my throat

• How can I cherish happy memories without dissolving into tears?

• How do I handle Mother's Day displays that began appearing in stores weeks ago?

• What does Mother's Day celebration look like when one of my children isn't physically present?

• The question that keeps me awake at night: How can I honor both his life and death without feeling overwhelmed by grief?

Surviving Grief in the Digital Age

Last week, my phone displayed a "memory" from three years ago—his senior cap and gown photos. There he was with that characteristically nonchalant expression, reluctantly posing for pictures. Just like his mama... LOL.

Social media algorithms don't understand the complexities of grief. They can't predict which memories might shatter your heart into pieces.

Yet surprisingly, technology sometimes offers unexpected comfort too.

It was through an online grief support community that I connected with other mothers walking this same unimaginable path. Some were years ahead in their grief journey, others just beginning theirs. What unites us is our shared experience of children we can no longer physically hold but whose memories we'll carry forever in our hearts.

Creating Purpose Through Unimaginable Pain

People often ask how I'm managing to write a book while experiencing such profound grief. The truth? I wrote "Holidays Without You" not in spite of my pain but because of it.

When suicide claims someone you love, the silence afterward feels deafening. People struggle to find appropriate words, so many say nothing at all. Holidays—usually times of celebration—transform into emotional minefields.

My son would have celebrated his 23rd birthday on May 19th. Instead of blowing out birthday candles with him, I'm channeling my love into creating a resource that might help another grieving parent feel less alone during their darkest moments.

Life Lessons from Fifteen Years of Basketball

For fifteen years, I sat on uncomfortable bleachers watching my son play basketball. From elementary school games through middle school growth spurts and high school championships, I absorbed the rhythm and patterns of the sport.

What I never realized was how those years were molding me to navigate the hardest season

of my life:

• Endurance matters more than speed. Some days grief hits like an aggressive

  full-court press; other days it's a slower, more strategic game.

• There is no life without a support system, your stakeholders matter. I couldn't survive without the people who've shown up consistently after the loss of my son.

• Sometimes calling a timeout is necessary. There are days when grief demands

  all my energy, and that's perfectly okay.

• The game changes with each quarter. Grief constantly evolves and transforms

  —just when you think you understand the rules, everything shifts.

A Mother's Day Message for the Brokenhearted

If you're dreading Mother's Day this year—whether you've lost a child to suicide, illness,

accident, or any other heartbreaking circumstance—remember that motherhood

is a lifetime commitment.

Nothing—not even death—can take that away from you.

Tomorrow will be incredibly difficult. I'll honor my son by visiting his favorite candy store to buy his beloved gourmet candy apple. I'll certainly cry, but I'll also remember the joy on his face when enjoying favorite treats that we shared together.

And on May 19th, what would have been his 23rd birthday, I'll release "Holidays Without You"—a comprehensive guide for parents navigating celebrations after loss, featuring specialized support for those affected by suicide loss.

Meaningful Ways to Honor Your Child on Mother's Day

If you're traveling a similar grief journey, here are meaningful ways to honor both your child and your continuing role as their mother:

• Engage in activities they loved. Watch their favorite movie, enjoy their favorite food, or visit a place they treasured.

• Establish a meaningful ritual. I've placed a basketball on our dining table with battery-operated candles I'll illuminate tomorrow.

• Allow yourself to experience every emotion. Some moments might bring unexpected joy; others might completely overwhelm you. Both responses are entirely valid.

• Find your grief community. Whether online or in-person, connecting with others who truly understand is vital for healing.

• Say their name aloud. In a society that often avoids mentioning those lost to suicide, speaking your child's name represents an act of profound love and courage.

Creating New Meaning Through Loss

Next week, on what should have been my son's 23rd birthday, "Holidays Without You" will be released. This timing is intentional—transforming what could be an unbearably painful day into one with meaning and purpose.

The book addresses specific challenges of navigating holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, and other significant occasions after losing someone precious. It includes specialized content for suicide loss survivors, who often experience unique aspects of grief.

To receive a notification when the book launches, or to connect with others who understand the complexity of Mother's Day after child loss, join our supportive community here.

A Letter to My Son

I'll conclude with words I wish I could share with him directly:

I miss cheering at your basketball games and hearing basketballs bouncing on the court. I miss your ambitious cooking experiments in our kitchen. I miss receiving your funny texts and Instagram memes. I miss watching basketball games together while you passionately explained why Allen Iverson remains one of the top ten greatest players ever. I miss our special mother-son movie nights. I miss retwisting your dreads. I miss your incredibly kind heart.

But mostly, I miss witnessing what your future would have held—all your potential accomplishments and the Mother's Days I took for granted that you would be here to celebrate.

You will forever remain in my heart. Always loved, always remembered—that will never, ever change.

To every mother reading this: love your children fiercely, keep them close, and treasure every memory. We never know when a moment might be our last together. Don't miss a single second.

With endless love for my beautiful boy,

Lagesha Hendrix

"Holidays Without You" launches May 19th, 2025, on what would have been my son's 23rd birthday. This compassionate guide supports parents navigating holidays, birthdays, and special occasions after loss, with dedicated resources for suicide loss survivors. Pre-order today to receive "Finding Rituals for Grief Journeys" as a complimentary downloadable companion guide.