Vincent lay awake most of the night.  Tomorrow was Mother’s Day.  It would be their second and his anguish hadn’t lessened with time.

In the morning Catherine opened her eyes to smile at him.  She ached for his sadness and dreaded his … apology.  Mother’s Day was the worst day of the year for them because of the way he suffered it.

She put her forefinger on his lips.

“Don’t.  Please.”

He took her hand and placed it on his bare chest.

“I … Catherine, I don’t know what …”

She moved closer to him and touched her lips to his, a gentle kiss that soon deepened and bloomed into the loving they both needed.

“Let’s have a bath,” she suggested.

He smoothed her hair.  Gazed at the woman who was his beloved wife

“What time is it?  We don’t want to miss the Mother’s Day brunch at 11:00.”

“It’s early.  Almost 7:00.

“How do you do that, Vincent?  Tell the time?”

He confessed, “I’ve no idea.  I’ve always had a sense of the hour.”

She was sitting up now, reaching for the robe that lay on the desk chair.

“It’s kind of … I don’t know.”

“Creepy?”

“No!  Remarkable.  Mysterious.  Maybe miraculous.”

He laughed.

“Thank you.  You’re very charitable.”

She reached for him.

“Vincent, you are my miracle.  In every way.  And you continually amaze me.  You believe that, don’t you?”

He’d wrapped himself around her, urging her down to lie with him.

“Yes, I believe everything you tell me, Catherine.”

She kissed him, considered what she could say, hesitated, began to speak.

“Then if I tell you there is no reason to be sad today, sad for me, for us, you will believe it’s true?  We have so many children, beautiful children, that you and I ‘parent’.  I’m not wishing for more than all we do have together.  I’m fulfilled because you love me.  And you share with me a family of friends and young people.  My life is everything I want it to be.  Please, can you be happy, with me, as we are, as we live our wonder-filled life?”

He gathered her to himself and held on.

After a while, he spoke, softly, keeping her close, confessing all the disappointment and hurt in his heart because they hadn’t been able to conceive a child together.

“I feared we couldn’t, because I am … different … yet I hoped, for your sake.  Still, a part of me was terrified to think of you pregnant, so I have been guilty with that sense of relief that also lives in me.”

She lay quietly within his almost fierce embrace.

He wasn’t sure he could bear to hear what more she might tell him.  Absolution would not touch a pain that could not be eased.  Forgiveness … there was nothing she could say, and he was glad of her silence.

When she moved, he let her go.

Catherine sat up, looking down at him, and the compassion he saw had him turning his head away.

“No, don’t do that, Vincent.  Please, listen, watch me say these words so that you will always remember that I love you, and a child, our child, is not necessary to that love.  You love me beyond what I can feel, or know, or even imagine.  In you I have everything, Vincent, and I don’t ever think of what more I might want.  We knew we might not be able to have children.  If you’d known it for fact, would it have changed anything between us?  Would you have walked away from me?  I’d not have let you go.”  She smiled and squeezed the hand she held.  “Have you thought that we’ve been given all the children down here?   All of them have loved you since long before I came. You are their safe place.  They bring you their ideas, successes, efforts, failures and their troubles.  And now, I think they love me, too.  Vincent, celebrate me, this Mother’s Day.  Is Mary less a mother because these precious ones are not ‘hers’?  What of Rebecca or Jamie?  Even Samantha ‘mothers’ the little ones.  And when Father’s Day comes next month, I plan to celebrate you, with you, with Father and all the men down here who ‘father’ the children.  We are a community of parents.  It’s more than you and I could have on our own and if you are glad not to worry nine long months about me, well, that’s a bonus.  Now, get up so we can enjoy our bath together before we join everyone for a Mother’s Day breakfast.”

“Come lie down for a little while longer, Catherine.”

She smiled and slid in beside him, one arm across his chest.

“Thank you.  You bandage my hurts with your compassionate insights.  Your unique way of seeing.”

“I meant to heal, not just bandage.”

He urged her closer.

“The healing has begun.  Because of you.  Catherine, I live because of you.  That should be enough for me but then you …  elevate my life … with your gentle understanding, leading me down thought-avenues I’d not considered, not recognized.”

“I think you give me too much credit, my love.”  She poked his chest and continued, “Then I think again and realize you do exactly the same for me when I can’t find my way out of some darkness.  Maybe that’s our calling in this union of ours?  To guide not just the children in our life, but one another.”

“I’m beyond grateful to have you beside me in this.”

“I hope my love … inadequate … imperfect … might still, somehow, be enough.”

He shifted to lean up and promise her, “I find your love radiantly flawless, Catherine.  Unconditional.  A love beyond reason.  Beyond any deserving.  Forever my strength.”

He brought his lips to hers.

They were half an hour late to the Mother’s Day brunch.

_________

always for you, H
May 2025