Being
a Mother
“We
can't understand when we're pregnant, or when our siblings are
expecting, how profound it is to have a shared history with a younger
generation: blood, genes, humor. It means we were actually here on
Earth for a time—like the Egyptians with their pyramids, only with
children.”
Anne
Lamott
Today
is Mother's Day. Everyone is remembering and celebrating their
mother's gifts to them. My own mother taught me one crucial
lesson—persistence. She persevered through trials that would take
most humans out of the game—certainly would take me out. I used to
picture her as the Rock of Gibraltar in female form. She did not give
up, and she did not face life lying down. On the other hand, she was
not a rock star. She did not head companies, or profess at
university, or star in a hit TV show. She was a simple woman, who got
up every day and did what needed to be done—regardless. She played
a woman's role without complaint, never expecting to play any other.
If she yearned for freedom, and expression, and limelight, we never
knew it. She was not perfect, but she did her best, and that was
plenty good enough.
What
really interests me on Mother's Day is the experience of being a
mother myself. I have nothing that compares—no metaphors that quite
express it. Even when your children are not visual reflections of
you, there is a mystery to their very existence that can completely
overwhelm. Sometimes I look at my sons and wonder how this could
possibly be—these two strapping, intelligent, independent men came
through me. I respect them, and so admire who they have become.
Though I am no longer married to their father, I am eternally
grateful that I once was, and that these two are the result. Being
their mother is the greatest privilege of my life.
I
hope this Mother's Day finds you appreciating your mother. Whatever
else she may be, or have been, she gave you life and then showed you
how to navigate it.
In
the Spirit,
Jane
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