It's Mother's Day this weekend. I just thought I'd give you a heads up in case Hallmark, Walgreens and Target haven't done a thorough enough job of getting the message out.
I come from a long line of mothers. (Obviously.) On both my father's side and my mother's side, I've heard story after story of mothers who loved their children so hard it spilled down and permeated the generations that came long after they passed on.
I'm 30 years old and in just a couple of years I may hold the record in my family for waiting the longest to have children. (For discretion's sake, I'm a-ok with being the record-holder. I wouldn't change my life's path for anything.) Because I haven't had children, I don't yet know what it really means to be a mother. But when I watch a baby born on reality TV (thanks Kourtney Kardashian and Michelle Duggar), I can't help but tear up. When a dear friend gives birth to her baby at 15 weeks, names him, and places him promptly into the hands of Jesus, I can't help but cry hard and get lost in the heartbreak of it. When I recently watched the classic 1990s romantic comedy, NineMonths, with Hugh Grant and Julianne Moore for the first time and Hugh finally realized what a special thing it is to get to be a parent, my heart beat harder and my eyes welled up. This natural emotional reaction to that miracle moment of birth and parenthood tells me there's a mother in me. And it's probably because I was mothered pretty well.
And who taught my mother how to be a mother? That would be my grandmother, Diane. She passed away in early March. As Mother's Day has been approaching, my mom has been making a bigger deal about the day than in previous years. I've received lots of reminders that, "Mothers day is coming up!" and she's brought up a lot of ideas for things she wants to do with the family that day. I finally asked her, "Why are you making such a huge deal out of Mother's Day, this year? You normally don't." And through tears she said, "Because I don't have a mom anymore."
Ah.
My prompt reaction was to correct her, "You have a mother. You had a mother who lived to be in her mid-80s. Just because she's gone doesn't mean you don't have a mother anymore." My strong reaction to her statement of not having a mother anymore was rooted in my own fear. One day, I know I'll be in her position. We all have to say goodbye to our mothers at some point in our lives. Is it even possible to come to terms with the absolute fact that the person who gave birth to you, raised you, and guided you is suddenly gone? Despite the classic tensions and mother-daughter strains my own mother and I have faced, I know that when the day comes when I have to say goodbye, I'll be wrecked. As my mother is wrecked, this Mother's Day.
What made my grandma Diane such a great mother? She was the queen of positivity. When my grandpa was hit by a drunk police officer while changing a flat tire in the 1970s, when he spent the subsequent year in the hospital recovering, when their house burned down in the midst of it all, my grandma remained a positive, cheerful presence for her kids. When my grandma faced her own onslaught of health challenges from her 40's through her 80's, she found the silver lining wherever possible. She loved to entertain. She gave good, squishy hugs. She made you feel special. She gave compliments. She loved to laugh and have fun whenever possible. That was Grandma. And to my mother, that was Mom. And she was blessed to be mothered by her for half a century.
The fifth of the Ten Commandments tells us to honor our mothers. Growing up, we almost solely equate 'honor' with 'obey'. But when our moms leave this earth, honoring their legacy is the best way we can continue to elevate them in our lives.This Mother's Day, if you don't have a mom around anymore, take comfort in the fact that you're in a season we will all face one day.Even if she had to leave much sooner than you would've liked. Know that, like me, she had a mother inside of her and it was you that brought that part of her to life. Do what you can to keep her essence alive—cook her trademark dishes, sleep with the afghan she knitted, play her favorite songs, tell story after story about her to your own children. Create a legacy of mothers whose love is felt by generations to come. That way, we'll never be able to say we don't have a mom anymore.
Our mothers live on.
