Everything I am, I owe to my mother

Original post- 05/09/09

This Mother's Day has a particularly significant meaning for me considering what my own mom is currently going through. It makes me want to freeze time. The very idea that she may not be around to see my children grow up frightens the hell out of me. I have hope, certainly. I absolutely believe that she WILL be ok. But I would be a liar if I said other thoughts haven’t crossed my mind.

As someone who is somewhat of a control-freak, it's difficult for me to sit back and allow someone else to be in control. It's not in my nature to sit still and wait for news, good or bad. I am used to picking up a phone or going somewhere in person or doing whatever it takes to make people understand what must be done and then making it happen. I've never been one to idly sit back and allow events to shape themselves. Not when there is an opportunity to make something better. But this... this is a lesson in patience, to say the least.

And while I do pray, I've never quite grasped the concept of putting something in God's hands and allow myself to stop worrying. I have faith; really, I do. But the control-freak in me wants to be able to stop this from happening to my mother. It wants to call the doctors and politely explain that she’s not yet due to be elderly and ill and if they wouldn’t mind, please correct this right away. It wants to ask for the supervisor so I can explain that she’s just too young for any health problems and they’ve somehow made a mistake assigning this one to her. It wants to pull rank on them and inform them that if they don’t correct this and do it immediately, they’ll be hearing from my attorney and it won’t be pretty.

The daughter in me screams that it isn’t fair that my mother is sick. I’m only 31! I need my mother. I need her advice to help raise my boys. I need her counsel when I have a petty problem with Dan. I need her gentle chiding when I make a mountain out of a molehill. I need to see the look on her face when my brother finally gives her that beautiful granddaughter she deserves. This is the time she should be enjoying life. Her children are grown; she no longer has to make lunches for school, or wait on a child to get off the bus, or make cupcakes for the class, or counsel her teenager through boyfriend troubles. She should be enjoying these “grandbaby years.” She’s earned them, damnit! She shouldn’t be hindered by an oxygen machine and a shortness of breath so severe that she cannot go from the kitchen to the bedroom without having to sit and rest. These are the years she and Daddy should be rediscovering why they love each other so much and taking weekend trips together. She should be able to get in her garden and do the things she loves to do.

The mother in me understands her need to smile and make her children believe that she doesn’t feel as badly as she really does. The mother in me knows that she wants to be able to hand her son a simple cup of coffee without him worrying over her. I understand her need to smile and hide the fear that I know she feels. The mother in me understands the overwhelming need to fight for my children’s sake so that I can see them accomplish their dreams. Not for myself, but for them.

The woman in me understands the need to be strong. I can always hear her voice echoing in my head, “You’re a woman! You’re stronger than that! Get up and DO.” That has always been my mother’s motto, whether she realizes it or not. In her own quiet way, she’s always been the epitome of proving that it’s ok to take a little time to yourself, but at the end of the day, you get up off your ass and you DO because you’re a woman and a wife and a mother, and that’s what you do. You just DO. You DO with grace, you DO with selflessness, you DO with as much dignity as you can muster, and you move on. It doesn't matter if you don't want to DO, this isn't multiple choice. There is no selfishness, there are no excuses; only negotiation, reason, and action. You are better and you are much more than a mere female.

Last year, Mama gave me a Mother’s Day card that I will never forget. It was one she’d made, and it said, “You’ve become the wonderful mother I always knew you’d be. I am so proud of you.” I cannot describe just how much that meant to me. It made me realize that she is my yardstick. She’s the measure by which I judge motherhood. Is she perfect? Nope. Has she always done the right thing? Nope. Was she always patient? Nope. But she made me realize that it’s ok to not be a perfect mother. Just love your children with all your heart and the rest will come together. As much as I’ve not wanted to admit it over the years, I really have become my mother. And for that, I am humbly grateful and infinitely proud.