As any mother knows, motherhood changes our lives in very significant ways. As Rajneesh said, “The moment a child is born, the mother is also born.”
Before I became a mother, I drove too fast. I rode on the riskiest circus rides.I thought I loved my cat as much as I could ever love a child. I made faces at bratty children having tantrums in stores.
I did not know that the smell of a baby’s hair is better than Chanel 5. I did not know I was capable of unconditional love. I did not understand my own mother.
I had no idea how strong I could be. I had no idea how gentle I could be.
I did not know how much my heart could hold.
I still don’t, but as a mother I think it must be endless.
Image Credit
Gustav Klimt “Three Ages of Woman, Mother and Child (detail)
Lovely…
As the days go by, the moments when I am alone become deeper and filled with tiny flashes of all the beautiful moments we have shared. I practice in these moments my hindsight so that my dearest little baby, who shall always be my little baby, in my arms, held so tight, in his little snuggly, should never feel the kinds of pain and worry and sorrow that a mother secretly carries inside her as her dear one grows.
On the day she is born – the day her child is born – she leaves her former self, her former life, and is gifted with the sight, the ability to see and feel all things. She is an eagle soaring above so she can ensure no harm comes to her child on the ground. She makes no movement until she must. She is a Samurai with blades sharpened like talons, prepared to swoop down and carry off danger before her child even knows it was there. She is a bear as well, so that should harm approach, she can tear its limbs off for even thinking of endangering her beloved one.
I see what my mother went through, raising four children – two of which were me and my evil twin, or maybe I was the evil one. Some days, I know, we were more challenging and infuriating than drunk quantum theory.
My mother loved like no other mother; she must have. Because her children have become exceptional in the art of striving for everything my mother could not never give us. As a single person apart from but a part of us all at once, she gave us this gift. Exceptional in the art of attempting to perfect what she had created, honing it and learning how to use it so that we could fly away from her stronger and better than even she could have ever imagined.
She fought this exceptionalism in a strange sort of way, as we all sort of do. It tore her up inside, I’m sure, to watch her children becoming so strong, because it would mean, inevitably, we would leave her. And this is the hardest thing in the world for a mother to imagine. To see. The sight we are given and the ability to love and hone skills in our little eaglettes – in our bear cubs – is a double edged sword. One that must be wielded with the loving kindness of Hera and the masterful strength and courage of Hercules.
The fact that we are all such self-doubting masters of something that no one could ever put a label, name, job description or price on speaks about all mothers.
Her pain transformed into not pleasure, but wisdom.
Her wisdom, so painful to see, to discover, to acknowledge…given birth to, so that it can continue to give birth to wisdom again.
Mom: today in Western civilization, we are encouraged to buy flowers and Hallmark cards to say that we celebrate you – you who went through some ridiculous horrors of real life so that our children might never have to. And although the gesture is nice, nice does not begin to give back what was given and continues to be given.
So today and every day, let us celebrate MOTHERS: Even though our journey makes us a little crazy, a lot exhausted and too many other words the english language is ill-equipped to describe, Mothers deserve so much more than one day of lauding. We are The source, the beauty, the love, the hope, the peace and the reason.
Thank you for sharing this beautiful piece, Mary. You captured so perfectly the complexity and joy that is motherhood. A happy Mother’s Day to you (and yes, those children of ours are always babies to us mothers, as I tell my daughter).
The depth of a mother’s love is unfathomable.
I remember seeing you pass by my old place many years ago with your baby carriage. You were wearing a beautiful red dress. The breeze caught your hair and you were a vision of contentment: all was right with the world. I wanted to call out to you but it would have spoiled the moment.
Happy Mother’s Day, my dear friend.
love, Maggie
Happy Mother’s Day to you too! I’ve held both of your babies, and there are few gifts as precious as the first time a friend trusts you to hold her newborns. And just look at all those babies now!
I love this Kerry. Happy Mothers Day
And to you, Donna. Thank you.