This was the third night when sleep seemed to abandon her.
She had hoped it wouldn’t have come to this.
She hoped that someone would have defended him.
This time she couldn’t protect him
She couldn’t pick him up when he fell,
Or kiss a bruised knee or elbow better.
She went with him for where else could a Mother be when her son was suffering?
Maybe she would wake up and this would just be a nightmare.
Friday would not have happened. It would be Thursday and she would make her way to join her son and his friends for the celebration.
She knew it was real, the pain, loss, sadness and emptiness she felt now was too real for it to be a dream.
She swept the floor again, wiped the table Joseph and their son made all those years ago.
How she missed them ...
The she heard it,
Gentle “Mama” .... “Mama” ...
She had heard his voice so many times these last two days ...
This time it seemed different ...
It sounded as present as the first time she heard that voice utter that word, in this same room almost 30 years ago.
“Mama” she stopped ... this time there was no Joseph to run and tell ... dawn was breaking ...
“Mama” that gentle call.
From the depth of her being rose her prayer again with conviction and renewed hope:
“My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour ...” Lk 1:45
Poem by Janet Hopper RSCJ
Photo by Silvana Dallanegra RSCJ
As Good Friday 2016 fell on 25th March, this year we celebrated the Annunciation on Monday 4th April