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A belated Happy Mother's Day to our 2TheHeart family! I am resending our special Mother's Day edition with your letters to Mom, because apparently it never arrived last week! Look for a new inspiring story this Friday!


I'm in a unique position. Most people only have one mother. I have two. You see, I'm adopted.

Actually, this year is a bit sad. For it was on 13 April last year that my mother count reduced back to one. One of my mothers died, and I didn't even know until two weeks later. That doesn't mean I don't have two mums, though. It just means one's in Heaven while the other is here.

Having two mums is something I never understood until I was married. I'd always accepted from my adoptive mum (who I call mum) that I was someone special, because it took the combined efforts of two special women to bring me into this world and to bring me up. If you like, it was a relay race. My birth mum, who so easily could have had me aborted, chose instead to carry me for nine months of hard labour. Months of secrecy and silent pain, with the knowledge that soon after my birth she would no longer be a part of my life. From that time on, we would be apart.

So, the baton was passed from one mother to the next. O, yes, it was through a beaurocracy and papers were filled out and examinations were held to see who would have me. But as much as it was the effort of a government bureau to ensure I was adopted by fit and proper people, I believe there was another who had His hand on the paperwork, the process and systems so that the right people became my mum and dad.

Mum saw me when I was barely a few weeks old. Dark haired from the start, she and dad had waited years to come to the point of holding me. In her early forties at the time, it is now inconceivable how my father and her were qualified to adopt me. Yet, in God's Providence, that's what happened and I went home to live as part of a family. The name mum chose for me was the same I was given by my birth mum ... Robert. Not often seen, but a demonstration that each had a special part to play in my bringing and upbringing.

Today, mum lives on to enjoy her forty-seventh Mother's Day. My birth mum, Audrey, succombed to cancer last year. They each had a hand in helping me find where I am today.

And to each of them, I simply say two words:

Thank You.

Robert White (named by two of the most beautiful ladies who ever lived)


It's Mother's Day again..

You've been gone for 2 long years and there's not a day goes by that I don't think of you in some small way. I'd give my right arm to be able to sit at your kitchen table one more time to drink just one more cup of coffee with you....I wish I could send you just one more Mother's Day card to let you know how much I appreciate you and all the wonderful memories you gave me over the years. Even though a single card could never express my appreciation for a lifetime of caring and giving and for everything you taught me about life.

I can remember how you cried when I told you I had breast cancer, but I'll always remember what you told me - that I was strong like watched me as I took my chemotherapy treatments, you watched as I lost my hair, you watched me as I went through the radiation treatments and I saw the admiration in your eyes grandma..your soft, gentle eyes were my safe haven as you watched me travel the cancer journey and I survived because of YOU, because of your strength.. God truly blessed my world when he gave me you for a grandma...and I hope and pray that I can continue to carry on your wisdom, your patience, your tenderness, your protectiveness, your guidance, your loyalty, your strength, but most of all your love to Dawson...he was 6 months old when you left us, but he will know and love you as I did...I will see to that. Every Mother's Day, we buy a helium balloon and visit your grave - I tell Dawson the wonderful story of a wonderful lady with a heart full of love....and then we let the balloon go...Dawson's tears are for a lost balloon and mine are for you, grandma...I miss you so much, it hurts! You will always be in my heart grandma..forever and a day. I love you precious, precious lady! Julie Dyer



I don't write often anymore
Sometimes I have little to say
But when it's time for Mother's Day
So many memories come my way

I remember when I was little
How you were always there for me
Always saying 'chin up'
Every time I skinned my little knees

I grew into a woman
Had a family of my own
I gave you three grandchildren
We had plans in your home

But sometimes plans are changed
Yours and mine were that day
When you told me you had cancer
It broke my heart in every way

I watched you suffer Mom
I wanted to remove the pain you had
I'll always remember you saying
I love you, don't be sad

You told me you had one regret
That you'd never live to see
Your grandchildren grow into adults
How sad that's been for me

But I've told my children about you
I told them about how life used to be
They see your picture on the wall
I say, "That's grandma, you and me"

I've raised them as you told me
I gave with all my heart
But mom I wish they'd had known you
For they missed the best part

I want you to know on Mother's Day
How much I think of you
And what I would give to see you again
And you see your grandchildren too

Happy Mother's Day Mom

In Memory of my Mom
Helen Joyce Cook

For those of you who still have your mothers, Hug her, for what I would give to be able to hug mine.



I read this poem the other day (author unknown) and I wanted to share it with you. This is for most of us whose mother is now longer with us but if you still have your mother I know you will still like this little poem.

If Roses grow in Heaven,Lord please pick a bunch for me.
Place them in my Mother's arms and tell her they're from me.
Tell her I love her and miss her, and when she turns to smile,

Place a kiss upon her check and hold her for a while.
Because remembering her is easy, I do it every day.
But there's an ache within my heart that will never go away.

I wish you all a very Happy Mothers Day God Bless Bobbie Y.


Happy Mother's Day, Mom!
by Pamela Blaine

It will soon be Mother's Day. People are out in the stores looking for cards and gifts that their mothers might enjoy. Through the years I have gotten Mom different things for Mother's Day. It didn't ever seem to matter what I got her, she always seemed to love it. Sometimes it was simply a card but she would read every word.

That old saying, "It's the thought that counts," is really what mattered to Mom. Her eyes would suddenly light up at the very idea that I had thought of her. When you consider that, it really is special to know that someone is thinking about you. After all, there are thousands of thoughts that a person could be thinking at any given time, so it's quite an honor that someone would turn their thoughts toward a particular person and dwell there for a period of time.

Mom always loved it when I gave her flowers. It was probably because she lived through The Great Depression and other difficult times. I think that flowers represented life, color, and beauty to her. When I was a child, people didn't buy a lot of flowers, instead they shared roots and "starts" with one another and yards would blossom all summer.

However, it is God's handiwork in nature that greets us each spring with the deep purple violets that surprise us in the yard and even the dandelions have their beauty as well as a lot of other flowers that grow wild.

That's why I picked a bouquet today from God's garden and got into the car to deliver them myself. It was only a few miles over there and I decided that Mom should have flowers for Mother's Day. I drove up the driveway beneath those big beautiful oak trees. It was such a beautiful day for delivering flowers. As I walked up the gentle slope, I smiled through tears as I laid the flowers beside her grave and said, "Happy Mother's Day, Mom."

Pamela Blaine May, 2003


Dear Susan,
your letter to your mom touched me deeply. I would just like to send an open letter to everyone who has their mother still. You don't realize how fortunate you are to still have your mother. I was ten years old when my sweet mother died. If I could just have one more day with her, I would not ask for more. I would attempt to show her all the love I have in my heart for her; how much I have needed her and missed her all my life. I never had a mother to share my new experiences with; no one to share the experience of a new boyfriend with; to share my experience of my first love; to shop with me for clothes; no mother to help me prepare for my wedding; no mother to teach me right from wrong; I lost my father a year later. I had no one to confide in; no mother to show by example how to be a mother; consequently my children suffered; no mother to teach me not to be selfish, to think of my children and their welfare and enjoy them instead of thinking only of myself and what I wanted and what I needed and couldn't have because we couldn't afford it. No mother or father to teach me how to love and be loved. No mother to share my first child with, or the next, or the next. I missed her every night when I went to bed, missed her goodnight kiss, her love. I cried myself to sleep sometimes when I was a teen ager, just wishing she were there to talk to.

I just want to say, love your mother, if she is still with you. Show her how much you need her and want her to be there for you. She is the only mother you will ever have, the one who brought you into this world and suffered in childbirth and nursed you through all your illnesses and she deserves to be treated as though she really matters to you. Treat her like a queen, she deserves it and she will love it. In His time, Nell Berry


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