It Takes a Village...

Mother’s Day… My heart reaches for the voice and touch that has been gone too long… a longing that sighs deep and aches hard.  Does it get easier?  51 years of her mothering and it was not enough.  Not near enough.  Mom’s gift was infinite in scope, and her very presence is missed endlessly. 

And I’ve come to learned thru her example that it does indeed take a village… of super women moms… to raise a child. And I am so blessed that mom opened the door and invited some amazing women in to help mother me through the years.  She had an intuitive wisdom and confidence to know when she needed to step aside and let others take a hand in my raising and when she needed to take my hand to lead me straight. 

There is gratitude overwhelming for the way she loved me and shaped me and grew me.  And let’s face it, raising kids is a task of monstrous proportions.  If it’s not the terrible twos, it’s the last minute 5^th grade science projects or the 8^th grade dance dress that is all wrong or of course the tyranical teenage angst ad nauseum that would take pages and pages to recount (but let’s not, J it is still a somewhat touchy subject!)

No wonder we have Mother’s Day… and honestly, is one Day of Celebration really long enough?!

Looking back on my life, I see clearly the many, many women who loved me in tangent with mom and shaped me into who I am today:

There was Ruth, neighbor-friend, honorary aunt, who traded babysitting with mom, played a mean game of hopscotch, talked fluent Barbie-ese, read mountains of books and laughed joyously…

There was Grandma Inga and Aunt Di who planned glorious summer vacations for us on the dairy farm, building forts in the hayloft, teaching the art of handmilking and bottle-raising baby calves, taking endless picnics in the woods and throwing us on a tractor and caution to the wind…

There was Grandmother Meier, our city-grandma, who taught a love of history and travel and fine dining, taxi-riding and Chicago museums, and condo-living on the shores of Lake Michigan, letting tiny ones sit at her fancy table and eat peanut butter sandwiches off of her beautiful china, her smile echoing mom’s…

And Mrs. Ray, youth-leader wife-extraordinare, who listened to the woes of a broken teen-age heart so many times, pouring the grace of Christ into my life thru the years, preparing me for the stretching and growing pains as God grew me into a young woman ready for a grown-up love…

For Leroy’s mom, sweet Millie, mom-in-law with love, who opened her arms with exuberance to a dewy-eyed bride of 19, needing to learn so many things!  Like cat-fish frying and pickle-canning, summer gardening and days of Mississippi River fishing… Loud family reunions and happy times around an overflowing dinner table….

And when jobs took us 1,000 miles away from these mom-angels, with my babies barely knee-high, God planted me in the midst of the most precious mom-mentors.

Like Mrs. Buchmeyer, the children’s first grade teacher who encouraged me to try my hand at room-mothering and then proceeded to become mother indeed to both me and the kids, wearing their hand-made clay jewelry gifts with pride and stepping in as surrogate grandma for birthdays and scrapped knees and tooth-fairy escapades.

Or Michelle, pastor’s wife, ladies ministry leader taking me under her wing and lavishing love and laughter over me and my children with abandon…

And through it all, mom was the constant.  Always there, sometimes physically with hugs and in person, other times a phone call away, the sound of her voice all the connection I needed.

Somewhere along this mothering journey, she became my best friend, a confidante of the heart, my cheerleader and sounding board, understanding without words, sharing adventures and jokes, and lumps in our throats.

I have been given an extraordinary gift in my mom.  And I never understood it until I had children of my own.  When that downy head and tiny, precious baby mine was laid first in my arms, the love bonded tighter than sure.  I remember that powerful flow of ferocious love that beat loud for all to hear… this one is mine, I will protect and love and cherish always.

And I never wanted to let them out of my sight.  Not very practical, true… but this mama had control issues…smile. I have learned to loosen the strings little by little because really, we just can’t do it all.

It’s true!  Us moms.  We just can’t do it all.  For our kids.  All the time.  Always right.  (Sorry to disillusion you on Mother’s Day and all, but it’s true…honest…)

And the reason I know this is true is because Mom modeled it all my life.  She mothered us with gracious love and was able to step back and allow so many other incredible women to come alongside and share the load.  And now I am walking it out with my own kids and grand-girls…In the midst of a pack of amazing angel-women super moms.

I am beyond humbled by the gift of other women around me who I know will leave their mark, who will pick up where I leave off, and who will be the hands and feet of Christ to my kids, a gift I know I’ll never be able to repay.

And so on this Mother’s Day evening, my heart is full.    

Mom knows…