Just thought I’d pass this along…
This is for all the mothers who froze their buns
off on metal bleachers at football games Friday
night instead of watching from cars, so that when
their kids asked, “Did you see me?” they could
say, “Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it for
the world,” and mean it.
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This is for all the mothers who have sat up all
night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up
barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry
Kool-Aid saying, “It’s OK honey, Mommy’s here.”
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This is for all the mothers of Kosovo who fled in
the night and can’t find their children. This is
for the mothers who gave birth to babies they’ll
never see. And the mothers who took those babies
and gave them homes. For all the mothers of the
victims of the Colorado shooting, and the mothers
of the murderers. For the mothers of the
survivors, and the mothers who sat in front
of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who
just came home from school, safely.
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For all the mothers who run carpools and make
cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the
mothers who DON’T.
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What makes a good Mother anyway? Is it patience?
Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a
baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt,
all at the same time? Or is it heart? Is it the
ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter
disappear down the street, walking to school
alone for the very first time? The jolt that
takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib
at 2 a.m. to put your hand on the back of a
sleeping baby? The need to flee from wherever
you are and hug your child when you hear news of
a school shooting, a fire, a car accident, a baby dying?
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So this is for all the mothers who sat down with
their children and explained all about making
babies. And for all the mothers who wanted to but
just couldn’t.
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This is for reading “Goodnight, Moon” twice a
night for a year. And then reading it again.
“Just one more time.” This is for all the
mothers Who yell at their kids in the grocery
store and swat them in despair and stomp their
feet like a tired 2-year old who wants ice cream
before dinner.
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This is for all the mothers who taught their
children to tie their shoelaces before they
started school.And for all the mothers who opted
for Velcro instead.
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For all the mothers who bite their lips sometimes
until they bleed when their 14 year olds dye
their hair green. Who lock themselves in the
bathroom when babies keep crying and won’t stop.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work
with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on
their blouses and diapers in their purse.
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This is for all the mothers who teach their sons
to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for all mothers whose heads turn
automatically when a little voice calls “Mom?”
in a crowd, even though they know their own
offspring are at home.
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This is for mothers who put pinwheels and teddy
bears on their children’s graves. This is for
mothers whose children have gone astray, who
can’t find the words to reach them. This is for
all the mothers who sent their sons to school
with stomach aches, assuring them they’d be just
FINE once they got there, only to get calls from
the school nurse an hour later asking them to
please pick them up, Right away.
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This is for young mothers stumbling through
diaper changes and sleep deprivation. And mature
mothers learning to let go.For working mothers
and stay-at-home mothers. Single mothers and
married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers
without.
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This is for you all. So hang in there.
Please pass along to all the moms in your life.
“Home is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall.”
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HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY TO ALL OF YOU!
