Do not judge the bereaved mother.
She comes in many forms.
She is breathing, but she is dying.
She may look young, but inside she has become ancient.
She smiles, but her heart sobs.
She walks, she talks, she cooks,
she cleans, she works, she IS
but she IS NOT all at once.
She is here, but part of her is elsewhere for eternity.
A child that loses a parent is an orphan.
A husband that loses his wife is a widower.
A wife who loses her husband is a widow.
However, there is no word for a parent that loses a child.
For there is no word to describe such pain.