All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel Mother. ~Abraham Lincoln
I looked today for a poem or story or blurb that would adequately say how I feel about Mothers. But, nothing quite captured how I truly feel about them, all the many reasons that I’ve come to feel as I do about them. Nothing, no poem or quip, really set forth how I feel about the Mothers in this world and, most profoundly and especially, my own angel Mother, the one who makes me love and respect the very occupation of Motherhood that so many hold. And, I realize that words won’t put that forth. It is simply impossible. How can words sum up what this one woman has done for me, separate and apart from giving me life? How can words do justice to how she has shaped my world with her hands and her heart, how she has singularly instilled every ounce of goodness that I have in me? How can mere words say that everything I know about love and beauty and kindness and compassion and tenderness in this life is from her alone?
But, in my own feeble attempt, I can try.
There is not much in this world that I know for sure. Some people say that the only things that are certain are death and taxes. However, I, being blessed with the Mother that I have, would disagree.
This is what I know for sure, these are my certainties…
That I am loved and was wanted from the very beginning… My Mother and Father tried very hard to have me and I’ve been told all of my life that I was NOT an “accident”. My Mother has always said that she loved being pregnant and I believe her. She truly wanted me that much. Nothing beats the knowledge of that.
That no matter where I am, how old I get, how far I travel, what predicament I find myself in, my Mother will come to me and love me anyway.
That no one quite fills the place in my heart and soul that my Mother fills. It is an impossibility.
That talking to my Mother once about something is better than talking to a hundred different people a hundred times.
That my Mother truly does know best.
That, thanks to my Mother and Father, I had a flawless, truly wonderful and picturesque childhood.
That no one truly – HONESTLY – cares about me, my well-being, my health, my happiness as much as my Mother.
Friends come and go. Men come and go. Some family members even come and go. But, my Mother will always, no matter way, without fail, always be there for me.
That no one is to be trusted like my Mother.
That if I were stranded or lost or kidnapped, my Mother would find me quicker than an army of rescuers.
That my Mother prays for me every day and every night.
That if I mention a certain jelly that I like, my Mother will buy a jar the very next time she goes to the grocery.
That my Mother truly is the smartest, cleverest, most sensical person I know, even if I didn’t think so when I was sixteen.
That I’m never too old to have my Mother kiss a boo-boo and that she will never think so either.
That my Mother never – EVER – makes a decision without thinking about what her “babies” would think and how it would affect us.
That I may disappoint her sometimes but she will never – no matter what I do – NOT love me.
That, even as an adult, nothing calms me quite like hearing my Mother’s voice or feeling my Mother’s touch or seeing my Mother’s face.
That my Mother will always forgive me, without question, no matter what.
That my Mother will always listen to me. Really listen.
That, if it were necessary, my Mother would give up her own life if it were to save mine.
That I’ve broken my Mother’s heart and I probably will again but that it won’t change how she feels about me one bit, ever.
That my Mother will always check on me when I sleep.
That there is nothing like waking up and seeing my Mother in the kitchen and her holding her arms out for a good morning hug.
That my Mother would give me anything she has.
That no Wonder in the World compares to sitting in the porch swing with my Mother as she sings or as we talk.
That my Mother wants only the best for me and will do whatever she can – anything in her power – to get that for me.
That there truly are people in this world who are genuinely good, decent, selfless, kind, compassionate, loving, and kind. I know this because my Mother is one.
That if I need something done – whether it be disgusting or benign, of a plumbing or medical nature – my Mother will get it done, even if no one before her has been able to.
That my Mother will always make me a grilled cheese or a pitcher of tea whenever I ask her to.
That what any regular person can do okay, my Mother can do better.
That I will always be my Mother’s baby.
That love does not always have a starting or an ending point, that true love runs deeper than just the heart, that love isn’t always pretty but it is always kind, that the one true love of a lifetime isn’t always a romantic love, that even before my Mother was here on Earth and even when I’m no longer here on Earth she will love me – truly and without fail.
That everything in my life starts and ends with her, my angel Mother.
I wish for each of you the joy, wonder and contentment of having someone in your life like my Mother.
Happy Mother’s Day!