More than one day for mothers
10/05/16 05:22
I know that Mother’s Day was Sunday and it is a little bit late to be writing on the topic, but I’ve been reflecting on the holiday and how we celebrate it.
A young reporter wrote a piece for our local newspaper that was published on Mother’s Day. I know that the reporter is young because I have been interviewed by her. In her piece, she profiled a 33-year old with two daughters; a 25-year old with four children; a 22-year old with four children; and a 39-year old with three children. Each has an interesting story and was worthy of a newspaper interview. I remember thinking when I read the article, however, that the reporter had been a bit lazy. She had simply interviewed her friends. The women in the article were all in her age range. They were all of the same ethnic and racial background. There are a lot of other mothers in our community whose nurturing is worthy of celebrating.
So, I’d like to reflect on the stories of other mothers whom I was able to greet on Mother’s day.
One mother who always has a hug for me, lingered a bit longer and we both were fighting back a tear or two on Sunday. She had a mother’s flower, presented by children as women left our sanctuary, in her hand. Just the day before she and I had been working together at our annual Front Porch Coalition Survivors of Suicide walk. It has been just over 22 years since her son, her only child, died by suicide. She has worked tirelessly since that time in suicide prevention work and at the process of providing support to others who have lost loved ones to suicide. She has received extensive training in leading support groups and is the main facilitator of the support group at our church. I know a little of the dynamics of mothers who lose children because two of my siblings preceded our mother in death. I remember the somewhat awkward pause that used to occur, after our sister died, when mother was asked how many children she had. She wasn’t quite sure how to answer the question. Mother was a stickler for the truth, but our sister wasn’t any less her child because she had lost her life at a young age. Our mother was much older when our brother died and by then she had lost her hesitation. When asked about the number of her children, she reported all of them. How bittersweet Mothers Day must be for a mother who has outlived her only son. He was a graduate school educated professional and it isn’t difficult to imagine him as a respected colleague serving our community. Instead we grow quiet and sometimes can’t find the words when we talk of him. The depth of her grief doesn’t make his mother any less of a mother, however and she has fond memories of his childhood and growing up years. There is much that is good to remember and we speak of him often. Hers is a story worth telling
Another mother became a mother by first becoming a stepmother. Her first marriage was her husband’s second and there were children present in their relationship from the beginning. Soon there were children born to the marriage as well. The raised all of those children together and in a very real sense she became mother to all of them. Then, when the children were raised and off on their own lives, her husband asked for a divorce. It was a painful journey for her and there were varying reactions from the children when they learned the news. Years of transition followed. Not long after the divorce she had the joy of welcoming her children for a visit and the awkwardness of knowing they had come for the marriage of her ex husband to another woman. Several years later they all assembled again when she remarried and became a step mom of one more adult child. The various reconfigurations of family have in no way altered the fact that she is a mother. Her faithfulness to her children shows in nearly ever conversation I have with her. The love of family is strong despite so many changes in primary relationships. Hers is a story worth telling.
I think of another mother who is balancing work and home life, putting in incredibly long days to make sure that the youngsters in her household have their physical, emotional and spiritual needs met. She is pouring out her heart and all of her energy into the youngsters and her husband is fully participating in work and home and child rearing as well. This is not their first time at this complex set of tasks. The children in their household were born to one of their children. They are grandchildren whose parents, for reasons too complex for this blog, cannot care for them. There have been court proceedings where grandparents testified in the best interests of their grandchildren while internally questioning their roles as parents because of the failure of their own child’s parenting. Emotions have run deep and there has been plenty of pain along with the joys of family. Despite all of the challenges the children are doing well. They are healthy and happy and attending school. They have the loving support of adults in their lives every day. They have a grandmother who would sacrifice all for them. Hers is a story worth telling.
Another mother has a child who has been gripped by a powerful addiction that he cannot overcome. There have been interventions and treatment centers, and plans made and failed. There have been nights of anguish wondering whether or not the child is alive. There have been fights and threats of violence and more family resources invested and lost than can be counted. This is not her only child, yet there have been times when she has been consumed by the results of the addiction to the point she wonders if she is giving enough attention to the healthy child. Hers is a story worth telling.
There are thousands more stories of mothers: mothers with children with major disabilities, single moms struggling to survive and sacrificing deeply for their children, mothers themselves gripped by disabling diseases, mothers who have to make plans for the care of their children as they face their own premature deaths, and so many more.
A single day is insufficient to celebrate all of the mothers.
A young reporter wrote a piece for our local newspaper that was published on Mother’s Day. I know that the reporter is young because I have been interviewed by her. In her piece, she profiled a 33-year old with two daughters; a 25-year old with four children; a 22-year old with four children; and a 39-year old with three children. Each has an interesting story and was worthy of a newspaper interview. I remember thinking when I read the article, however, that the reporter had been a bit lazy. She had simply interviewed her friends. The women in the article were all in her age range. They were all of the same ethnic and racial background. There are a lot of other mothers in our community whose nurturing is worthy of celebrating.
So, I’d like to reflect on the stories of other mothers whom I was able to greet on Mother’s day.
One mother who always has a hug for me, lingered a bit longer and we both were fighting back a tear or two on Sunday. She had a mother’s flower, presented by children as women left our sanctuary, in her hand. Just the day before she and I had been working together at our annual Front Porch Coalition Survivors of Suicide walk. It has been just over 22 years since her son, her only child, died by suicide. She has worked tirelessly since that time in suicide prevention work and at the process of providing support to others who have lost loved ones to suicide. She has received extensive training in leading support groups and is the main facilitator of the support group at our church. I know a little of the dynamics of mothers who lose children because two of my siblings preceded our mother in death. I remember the somewhat awkward pause that used to occur, after our sister died, when mother was asked how many children she had. She wasn’t quite sure how to answer the question. Mother was a stickler for the truth, but our sister wasn’t any less her child because she had lost her life at a young age. Our mother was much older when our brother died and by then she had lost her hesitation. When asked about the number of her children, she reported all of them. How bittersweet Mothers Day must be for a mother who has outlived her only son. He was a graduate school educated professional and it isn’t difficult to imagine him as a respected colleague serving our community. Instead we grow quiet and sometimes can’t find the words when we talk of him. The depth of her grief doesn’t make his mother any less of a mother, however and she has fond memories of his childhood and growing up years. There is much that is good to remember and we speak of him often. Hers is a story worth telling
Another mother became a mother by first becoming a stepmother. Her first marriage was her husband’s second and there were children present in their relationship from the beginning. Soon there were children born to the marriage as well. The raised all of those children together and in a very real sense she became mother to all of them. Then, when the children were raised and off on their own lives, her husband asked for a divorce. It was a painful journey for her and there were varying reactions from the children when they learned the news. Years of transition followed. Not long after the divorce she had the joy of welcoming her children for a visit and the awkwardness of knowing they had come for the marriage of her ex husband to another woman. Several years later they all assembled again when she remarried and became a step mom of one more adult child. The various reconfigurations of family have in no way altered the fact that she is a mother. Her faithfulness to her children shows in nearly ever conversation I have with her. The love of family is strong despite so many changes in primary relationships. Hers is a story worth telling.
I think of another mother who is balancing work and home life, putting in incredibly long days to make sure that the youngsters in her household have their physical, emotional and spiritual needs met. She is pouring out her heart and all of her energy into the youngsters and her husband is fully participating in work and home and child rearing as well. This is not their first time at this complex set of tasks. The children in their household were born to one of their children. They are grandchildren whose parents, for reasons too complex for this blog, cannot care for them. There have been court proceedings where grandparents testified in the best interests of their grandchildren while internally questioning their roles as parents because of the failure of their own child’s parenting. Emotions have run deep and there has been plenty of pain along with the joys of family. Despite all of the challenges the children are doing well. They are healthy and happy and attending school. They have the loving support of adults in their lives every day. They have a grandmother who would sacrifice all for them. Hers is a story worth telling.
Another mother has a child who has been gripped by a powerful addiction that he cannot overcome. There have been interventions and treatment centers, and plans made and failed. There have been nights of anguish wondering whether or not the child is alive. There have been fights and threats of violence and more family resources invested and lost than can be counted. This is not her only child, yet there have been times when she has been consumed by the results of the addiction to the point she wonders if she is giving enough attention to the healthy child. Hers is a story worth telling.
There are thousands more stories of mothers: mothers with children with major disabilities, single moms struggling to survive and sacrificing deeply for their children, mothers themselves gripped by disabling diseases, mothers who have to make plans for the care of their children as they face their own premature deaths, and so many more.
A single day is insufficient to celebrate all of the mothers.