Copyright © 2019
by Ralph F. Couey
Strength and dignity are her clothing,
and she laughs at the time to come.
She opens her mouth with wisdom,
and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.
She looks well to the ways of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children rise up and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:
"Many women have done excellently,
but you surpass them all."
--Proverbs
31:25-29
Have we ever wondered a mother's silent cries?
Her struggles, her fears, her worries?
Have we ever thought of the sacrifices
she has done to make our lives happier,
and her dreams cut short
to make our dreams come true?
--Ama H. Vanniarachchy
As Mother's Day was
approaching, I had time to speak with the moms that came through my check lane
at Target. I was amazed to hear of the number of them who had given birth
either on Mother's Day or a few days either side. I counted 26 of them
over the three days prior to the holiday. As we talked, they told me how
special that day had been, the ultimate Mom's Day present. But they also
talked about how those birthdays began to overwhelm the holiday, and I could
sense that they felt a little left out. But they were all quick to add
"But, that's okay. It's a treat to see my kid having fun."
The life of a mother is one of endless sacrifice. It is a tribute to their selfless natures, but also a reminder to the rest of us to look...really look at what they do day in and day out. A mother's love is one of those rare and beautiful things that will always be there as sure as the sun shines in the morning and the stars glow at night.
It starts at the very
beginning. Most women will tell you that pregnancies do terrible things
to their body. Some will suffer ailments related to various vitamin and
mineral deficiencies because their body's resources are being diverted to the
tiny life they carry within. Bones are rearranged, skin stretches, and they are remade. Once the baby is born, the real sprint
begins. Most of the rest of us expect moms to be up and around after a
few days and back to taking care of the rest of us. I suspect there is a
kind of guilt in the mom herself, knowing that even as she recovers, the house
still needs to be cleaned, dinners still need to be made, other kids (and husbands)
to care for, and then there's are the other jobs -- the paying ones.
Moms are driven by a
singular kind of energy, which if it could be bottled, I suspect would power
the United States for weeks on end. They run the household, and they run
our lives, not out of some misplaced megalomania, but because they love; deeply, passionately, and stridently. This endless energy is a part of them that runs without
ceasing for their entire lives. Even when kids are adults, not an hour
goes by when their mom doesn't think about them, and worry about them.
And when a mother becomes a grandmother, that love blossoms all over
again.
They understand little
children in ways none of the rest of us ever will, because they not only tend
to them, they actually live in their child's world -- how they play, what they like, what
brings them sorrow and joy. They understand at a very basic level
that innocence. They also understand what happens in the teen years when aliens come and possess their children's minds. Despite all those
battles, the love never dies. They don't just raise children, they are
fully invested in them, so much so that when the time comes for her children to
take wings, they find it so very hard to let go.
And they're thinking of
that moment. They know that parenting consists of a lot of long days, but
some very short years. I think some of them fear that just a
little. Someday, before they are truly ready to accept it, that cute
little toddler staggering across the room with binky in hand today will be
walking out the door to college, to marriage, to their own lives tomorrow. It's a
hard thing because if moms have done their job right, at eighteen years of age,
that child is now an adult, fully prepared to stand on their own two feet and take
control of their lives. In other words, they don't need mom anymore, at
least not in the way both have come to know. But that relationship will
always be there. One day, the phone will ring, and a voice will say,
"Mom, do you have time to talk?" And Mom will instantly cancel
all other plans, sit down, and listen.
That same warm, loving
embrace that soothed the pain of scraped knees and bruised feelings will be
there after a tough day at work, or problems in the marriage. Whenever a
grown child needs that place of refuge and protection, those arms will enfold,
embrace, and make it all go away.
We will always feel
inferior, because we struggle, and remember how they made it look so
easy. Their wisdom shaped us in youth and sustained us as adults.
And on that day when God takes them into His loving arms, they leave a hole in our hearts that can never again be filled.
Mother's Day celebrations
usually consist of breakfast in bed, lunch or dinner out, maybe a shopping
expedition and a few presents, along with the flowers and card. But I ran
into many who spent the whole weekend at graduations, baseball, soccer, and La Crosse
games, some sitting in the cold and rain. And they all said, "But
that's okay." And it truly was for them. Their children are
their lives, and giving their time to their kids is automatic, and at the same
time, joyful.
The fact remains,
however, that nothing we could ever do will come close to rewarding them for
all that they have done, and will do. Dozens of red roses, meals they
didn't have to plan, cook, and clean up afterwards...there simply isn't enough
of those in a lifetime to make up the debt. They don't make roses that beautiful or chocolate that sweet. The best thing we can do is
to honor them every day, not just this one day in May. Tell them -- and
show them -- that they are loved and appreciated. Do things for them, not
after they've asked a couple of dozen times, but just because they needed done,
and you know it would make her happy. Cancel your own plans, and hang out
with her for an afternoon or an entire day. Praise her, honor her, and
love her because that's what she has done for you.
Let's make every day a
Mother's Day, because they deserve it. I think we'll find that giving
love is every bit as wonderful as receiving love.
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