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 5th grade science projects or the 8th 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…
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