You know, Mother’s Day means a lot of different things to a lot
of different people. When I was a kid,
Mother’s Day always meant our family got up and went to church for the
notorious “Honor the Mothers” ceremony where they all get a special corsage and
are called out in categories to stand up in front of the entire
congregation. There was Youngest Mother,
Newest Mother, Oldest Mother, Mother with the Most Kids, and I don’t even
remember what else. It was like the
yearbook superlatives for mothers. I
remember enjoying that day, because all I had ever been taught was that
motherhood is the ultimate calling, the only job I will ever want or need. My duty as a woman would be to get through
puberty, find a husband, then pop out a hundred kids to start the cycle all
over again.
What you didn’t hear on Mother’s Day were things like “Most
Grief-Stricken Mother” or “Least Likely to Become a Mother” or “Mother Who
Miscarried.” No, we don’t even mention that
side of it, because it doesn’t exist, you see.
You don’t go to a Baptist church if you’re not willing or able to be a
mother. Or, for that matter, there was
no discussion of the kids who were there with no mother present. I had (and still have) friends who lived with
their grandparents or other relatives because their parents were either
deceased, or in jail, or just not around because those poor kids were unwanted
and thrown away like yesterday’s garbage.
I have friends who can’t make it through Mother’s Day
without spending the day in tears because they are either a mother who has lost
a child, or a child who has lost their mother. I have friends who have struggled with infertility
and have spent or are currently spending thousands of dollars to try and find a
way to conceive. My heart goes out to
those friends, because someone saying “Happy Mother’s Day” is painful for them.
There’s a local organization called Parents Left Behind,
Inc. that supports parents who have lost children. Mother’s Day probably sucks for those
women. Even if they have surviving
children, I’m sure nothing compares to the feeling of losing one.
There are mothers who are sent to nursing homes and who are
forgotten by their children and the rest of their family. I am fully aware of the sacrifices that
mothers make for their children, because I watched my mother sacrifice a lot
while we were growing up. I also
understand the need for skilled nursing facilities, because sometimes you just
can’t provide the care your loved one needs.
However, that absolutely does not give you any reason or right to forget
about your mother. It should be no different
for you than going to her house. Shame
on anyone who forgets.
I am fortunate enough to see my mother every day, and even
though some days are good and some days are bad, I still see her. I get to watch tv with her, eat her beef stew,
laugh with her, cry with her…everything.
Have you ever seen I Am Sam
with Sean Penn and Dakota Fanning? In
that film, that kid doesn’t know her mother at all. She never did, and never will. Did you hear about the lady in Canada who is
brain-dead, but pregnant? She has been
on a ventilator for 5 weeks, and doctors want to keep her there for another 7
so she can deliver the baby. Here’s the
link if you want/need it: http://www.cnn.com/2014/02/04/world/americas/canada-brain-dead-woman/
All personal/political/ethical/moral feelings aside, this
baby is just another of many that will not know his mother.
It’s probably safe to say that just about everyone has
someone they call their “2nd Mom.”
I’ve had lots of “moms” throughout my life, because it really does take
a village to raise a kid. I’ve never
called anyone “Mom” other than my actual mother, but I have had the grand
opportunity to live under the love and guidance of some incredible women who
have treated me like one of their own. I
lost one of those women last August, and my life has not been the same
since.
My dear friend Emili posted the perfect Facebook status
yesterday. She is so thoughtful and her
heart is so big, and she is one of the most loving and non-judgmental people I
have ever met in my entire life. I hope
she doesn’t mind me sharing, but I figure she wouldn’t have put it on social
media if she didn’t want people to see it.
“Happy Mothers Day to all the Birth moms, Foster moms, Step
moms, Adoptive moms, Grand-moms, God-moms, School-moms, Love-you-like-a-mom,
Fur-baby moms, Moms to be, Moms who (God bless you) lost your babies, Moms who
desperately want babies (God bless you!), And anyone else with mom-like
tendencies. Thank you for your
unconditional love, patience, inspiration, discipline, forgiveness, and humor –
even at times we didn’t deserve it.”
How simple. How
poignant. You don’t have to give birth to be considered a
mother.
I’m not as sappy as I used to be, and I don’t write
heartfelt, emotional poetry anymore; the crosses I have borne over the last 15
years have changed me drastically. I am
absolutely an actions person now. Well,
I try to be. Remember in English class,
when you’d write a short story, your teacher would say “show, don’t tell?” The whole reason for that is she wanted to see
and feel the scenario, not just read about it.
She wanted to connect and relate; she wanted to become so invested that
she felt like she was in the moment.
Actions are so much more impactful than words. Words
are empty and meaningless without actions, anyway. So I just tend to skip the words. Time is our most precious gift, yet it’s the
one we waste the most.
Don’t waste the other 364 days in the year. Show the mother in your life that you love
her every day.
