posted May 08, 2009 05:22 PM
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY
This is for all the mothers known as mother, mama, mom, ma...who gave birth to beautiful bundles of joy called babies.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to beautiful babies they'll never see.
And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.
And the mothers otherwise known as nana, aunt, auntie, TT, godmother...
who love and care for the children as their own.
This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in
their arms, wiping up barf covered 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 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 ten instead,
and 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.
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?
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 you feel when
you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street,
walking to school alone for the very first time?
The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at
2 A.M.to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?
The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when you just want to hear
their key in the door and know they are safe again in your home?
-Or- the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when
you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?
The emotions of motherhood are universal and so 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.