For years I cringed on Mother's Day. It's strange, because in my heart of hearts I am a mother. I was a mother long before I ever gave birth and I have given my whole heart to mothering. But on Mother's day I felt guilt. Guilty that I wanted to be pampered and disappointed that a Sunday full of church and family was not at all relaxing. Guilty that I wasn't a perfect mother. Guilty that I was impatient, lost my temper or yelled. Guilty that I somehow didn't measure up.
Things are different now. I lost my sweet mother 2 1/2 years ago and I have grieved long and hard for her. I have a darling baby girl who has brought such joy to our home. Somehow, just like when I was a little girl writing poems, Mother's Day isn't about me anymore.
This Mother's Day I am feeling exquisitely blessed to have lived my life surrounded by wonderful mothers. Grandmothers going back for generations, a Sunday School teacher who taught me about our Savior, aunts who made me feel special, neighbors who trusted me to babysit their children, a school teacher who nurtured my talents, a mother and mother-in-law who truly were angels. Today the blessings continue with dear friends, my sister, five sister-in-laws, my cousins and daughter-in-law.
One of these mothers was my great-grandmother Clara Matilda Bliesath. Granny died nearly 40 years ago and I still miss her. My thought of her wax and wane. Occasionally, I feel her near me with an intensity that is hard to describe. In late 2010 and early 2011, I felt her presence often, compelling me to finish the temple ordinances for her family. Last week I was in the car by myself and thoughts of her suddenly flooded my mind. I began to cry as I realized how much I missed her.
Like me, Granny was a mother at heart. Unable to have children of their own, she and her husband adopted a baby girl who became the center of their world. When her husband died, her daughter made her promise that she would never remarry. Granny had to work hard to support her daughter on her own. Later she helped care for her grandchildren as her daughter divorced and remarried. When her daughter died, she brought her two grieving grandchildren home and raised them.
When my father was grown, he converted to a strange religion that Granny didn't understand. She wasn't happy when he married a Mormon girl. But they came to live with Granny for a short time and my mom won her over. Before too long, Granny was doting on her great grandchildren.
I loved being with Granny. When she came to our house she slept in my big queen size bed with me and we watched soap operas together. I remember sitting on her lap and feeling so much love from her. What more could any child want?
That's exactly what Mother's Day is all about, at least it is to me this year. Love and Gratitude. Love for the many incredible mothers (yes I'm talking about you!) in my world and gratitude for their influence and example!
Happy Mother's Day!
3 comments:
I think you captured my feelings as well--I love being a mom but struggle with the inadequacy I feel. This was beautifully put--thank you!
I agree with that other comment. I was struggling yesterday as well. I didn't want to struggle and I was angry with myself for struggling. I knew if it were any other day I would be fine. I struggled for those who were lonely, those who couldn't have kids, those with no opportunity, those abused by their moms. I have a hard time thinking of their pain and celebrating goodness. I am so grateful for your post.
Comment from Cyndi that I accidentally deleted:
I feel the exact same way about my Grandma and Grandpa Abbott. They've been with me off and on during difficult times. Mostly in memory and of how much I'm like them. I find little things all the time that I think or my mom tells me, "You're just like my Daddy." or "Momma would say the same thing." So comforting to know they are there watching over us and keeping a spiritual eye on us!
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