MOTHERHOOD: One Mother's Perspective

I am presently "baby-sitting" my two grand-children, Aerin (9) and Nicholas (11) since their mother is away for two weeks.  Aerin enjoys going through old photo albums and can easily identify the various individuals from former generations -- sort of like studying the family tree.  Pointing to a picture of my mother, I asserted, "My mom was just the best mom ever!"  She widened her eyes as when she wants to emphasize something particularly important and countered adamantly, "MY mommy is the "BEST" and I miss her s-o-o-o much," and began to cry.  Comforting her, I realized that for each of us OUR MOM IS or WAS THE BEST because we were a part of each other from the moment we were conceived and nurtured in her womb for nine months.  That symbiosis commenced before birth and continued long after the severing of the umbilical cord.  If one was blessed with  a loving and devoted mother or step-mother, that connection developed through a lifetime. Nothing can equal or replace a mother's love for her child.  Studies indicate that a baby who is not held in the first year of life will develop what is called "attachment disorder" that is difficult to reverse, if at all. 

I can clearly recall being overwhelmed by such loving emotions emanating from me as I cuddled and rocked my infant, my chin against his downy head, that I felt nothing could be closer to heaven.  I was certain that somehow, through osmosis, the strength of this love must permeate him physically.  I was even more certain of this process 40 years later when together we heard an extremely old tune, one my grandmother (born in 1890) had sung to me, and I frequently used it to lull him to sleep. He could never have heard it other than in my lap, cooing to him in his earliest years, and yet he recognized it from that time long ago. "Oh," he said with feeling, "I just love that melody.  It warms me." So he had to have absorbed it in his baby sub-conscious state. It is on a mother's lap, knee, or shoulder that a child continues to experience this connection (I carried my youngest on my hip for more than four years, a sort of appendage). He certainly had ample freedom as well, because the mischief he got into is legend in our family, but we both seemed to benefit from the closeness. There is nothing that gave me greater fulfillment than being a mother.  I relished it and told my sons frequently that there was nothing I would rather be than their mother, and now I repeat this to my grandchildren.  Despite my career, my boys were my priority and I am so thankful for the years raising them. Children are precious gifts given to us.  In Sonnet 3 Shakespeare wrote, "Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee calls back the lovely April of her prime." At my present age, this is true.  We can only hope that with our guidance, unconditional acceptance, and unwavering support, they will "reflect" integrity, character, wisdom, and kindness.  Hopefully they absorbed these traits from watching how we lived our lives. Nevertheless, some children do "not keep time to our music," perhaps because "they hear a different drummer."  As the wise philosopher Camus wrote, "Our children are OF us, but NOT us."

Certainly we made mistakes, did not always have the perfect answers, lost our patience, endured sleepless nights, but we can be satisfied with having tried our best to be reasonably good mothers  --  to make a home that was a haven with kind words, sweet aromas on the stove, and warm embraces; to keep them on the "right path;" to encourage and foster their talents; to enable them to develop and follow their own dreams; and to be there to cherish and support no matter what happened.

The two quotes below sum up for me the essence of motherhood:

            "Better than grandeur, better than gold,       

             Than rank and titles a thousandfold"   (First two lines by Abram J. Ryan)

             Is a loving family and peaceful home

             From which no child would wish to roam.     

            "Youth fades, love droops

             The leaves of friendship fall.

             A mother's love and secret hope

             Outlives them all."    (Oliver Wendell Holmes)

GOD BLESS ALL MOTHERS - YOUNG AND OLD