I see you with your messy hair from a sleepless night with a restless babe in your arms, tear-soaked pj’s still being worn the next day with that same babe that is bright-eyed and ready to greet the rising sun.
I hear the stumbling of your 6:30 am wake-up call with a cold cup of coffee by 7, and another at 10, noon, and by 3 pm that same (or fourth) cup of coffee that can probably be found somewhere around the house, still full, or in the microwave, still cold….
I see your sleepy eyes, your tired shoulders, and arms that are constantly rocking, feeding, playing with, picking up, soothing, and giving… giving… always giving. I see you working tirelessly with a weary heart on your virtues of patience, kindness, respect, grace, compassion and an unabiding, unconditional love.
I see the song and dance of getting out of the house, the 2+ hours it takes just to run a couple of errands, and the 5+ times you run back into the house to get the list of things that somehow got lost in the throes of your mind… somewhere in between the grocery list, the to-do list, the deep breaths you’re trying to take, the 247 things that still need to be done and, well, your sanity.
I see you play with your children and experience the depths of tapping into your own childhood, re-experiencing the innocence, simplicity, curiosity, and adventure that is living in the present and seeing and really believing in the here and now.
And I see you who have longed for motherhood… who only God knows the imprint of your heartache and tears… who want to scream at the top of your lungs, enjoy the mundane, the struggles, the up-all-nights, and the frustrations because you may never know the value of the trials until you are faced with a such a time that has you wishing for the tribulations that are faced with a ‘plus one’… thank you for the reminder that each and every child is a blessing, a gift, and a reminder of the fleeting moments we have on this green earth.
And I see you who have experienced the deepest depths of heartache by the loss of your child… whether inside the womb, freshly outside the womb, or those who walked this earth for any number of years and left for their place in eternity before you. And it’s not fair, and it’s not supposed to be that way and it aches like the fires of hell and yet you keep on going and breathing and living and finding meaning in the madness. You find that staying alive is keeping them alive with their memory and the very cells of their beings that live inside of you.
And to my own mom, I see you, hear you, and feel you as I trace your footsteps through this journey that you took before me… the journey of my childhood and youth and adulthood that you’ve walked alongside me… I can feel your experiences in my bones and your joy in my heart… your deep sense of purpose in my soul. You’re with me every day and in every walk of me finding my footing in motherhood.
If we could really see one another, see the daily fires of life that a mother both lives (and dominates) each in her own fashion with her own style and catered to her own being and personality and family, maybe we would understand motherhood really is meant to be lived and embraced freely and uniquely. Perhaps we could see that we are here to walk alongside one another, share in this common bond of motherhood and womanhood whether pregnant with child or with dreams, desires and ambitions for the future.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the phenomenal women out there. May we each be dedicated to being one another’s cheerleaders through one of the greatest callings on earth.