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Mom doesn’t need to be in the kitchen this weekend, so we’re
going to skip the recipes and reflect on a very special message
sent to me by two friends in honor of Mother’s Day. I wish
that I had written these words, and while we may not know the
author, we know it was someone who had a great mother and who
probably became one, herself:
“This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick
toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer
wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, ‘It’s okay, honey,
Mommy’s here;’ who have sat in rocking chairs for hours
on end soothing crying babies who can’t be comforted.
“This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up
in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in
their purse; for all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies
and sew Halloween costumes … and all the mothers who DON’T.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they’ll
never see … and the mothers who took those babies and gave
them homes.
“This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections
are hanging on their refrigerator doors; and for all the mothers
who froze their buns on metal bleachers at football or soccer
games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars, so that
when their kids asked, ‘Did you see me, Mom?’ they could
say, ‘Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,’
and mean it.
“This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the
grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet
and scream for ice cream before dinner; and for all the mothers
who count to 10 instead, but realize how child abuse happens.
“This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children
and explained all about making babies. And for all the (grand)
mothers who wanted to, but just couldn’t find the words.
This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can
eat; for all the mothers who read ‘Goodnight, Moon’
twice a night for a year … and then read it again. ‘Just
one more time.’
“This is for all the mothers who taught their children to
tie their shoelaces before they started school, and for all the
mothers who opted for Velcro instead. This is for all the mothers
who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump
shot. This is for every mother whose head turns automatically
when a little voice calls ‘Mom?’ in a crowd, even though
they know their own offspring are at home – or even away
at college.
“This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school
with stomach aches, assuring them they’d be just fine once
they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour
later asking them to please pick them up … right away.
“This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who
can’t find the words to reach them. For all the mothers who
bite their lips until they bleed when their 14 year olds dye their
hair green. For all the mothers of the victims of recent school
shootings, and the mothers of those who did the shooting; for
the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front
of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home
from school, safely. This is for all the mothers who taught their
children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from
a war.
“What makes a good Mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion?
Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew
a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it in her heart?
Is it the ache she feels when she watches her son or daughter
disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very
first time? Or in the jolt that takes her from sleep to dread,
from bed to crib at 2 a.m., to put her hand on the back of a sleeping
baby? The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 a.m., when
she just wants to hear their key in the door and know they are
safe again in her home? Or the need to flee from wherever she
is and hug her child when she hears news of a fire, a car accident,
a child dying?
“The emotions of motherhood are universal and so are our
thoughts are for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes
and sleep deprivation … and mature mothers learning to let
go; for working mothers and stay-at-home mothers … single
mothers and married mothers … mothers with money, mothers
without. This is for you all; for all of us. Hang in there. In
the end we can only do the best we can … Tell them every
day that we love them. And pray.”
Happy Mother’s Day!
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