“Today is Mothers Day in many countries. Let us affectionately remember our mothers, even those who are no longer with us down here, but who live in our hearts. Our prayer, our affection, and our best wishes for all our mothers.” Pope Francis.
I started this post with a quote from the esteemed catholic because I am religious. I understand that not everyone believe the same way, or even conjures up the same opinion. What we do share is our belief in the idea, stature and image of Mother.
A girl blond in hair, hazel eyes which lead to the purest of heart soul. Trapped between foster homes and a single mama of her own. Life was poor. Life was rich with sister love and life was making the most out of what the hand dealt. Was it easy? I would think not. Crafted charisma though she followed her own faith and boarded a train to proud man pastures. A life seeded and eventually the family became Six with one lost during the carry.
Am I one to sit back and say oh my gosh I had the best childhood and the absolute loving affectionate are mum in all the land? Words I choose carefully as though not to harm. Dairy Queen Kids bags when I was the only one old enough were fond memories I had from that childhood lost.
Holding hands and brushing hair. Napping because jobs were needed to create joy and distraction.
A woman who as a young girl married at 13 became the object of Williams eye. She was to bare Seven with one lost to the barred cage with no lid. Her life I know very little of, but what I do know is that she was to struggle to make ends meet. Hoard and gravel to be sure food was on the table for the children and all the whole bathe and clothe skill and train. Grappling though the belted rage from an alcoholic ( he whom I did love ) who too frusteration out on some of the children, especially the boy. Removed the children from his immiediate habitat and arranged it so the seeds wouldn’t stay close to the root but at a distance. She had no say, or she chose to side with him. Happy she was in her final years without him as he passed.
grand mother.
In my world I see many friends whom are mothers. Some struggle to correct their wrongs and raise their grand babies. Some create new existence with more motherly love than a male figure dominating. Some are purest in love as two men raising something special. They all have the joy in their eyes the hindsight to see the world for what it is. This world is not the same world our parents seeded in. No no we lush in the worry of political shuffle and corporate mandates with the never ending financial woes that create the additional joys for us all to have.
I worry about all I’ve done and not done. I think of every extra thing I can do to do it all with me mum. For granted I do not take. I utilize this time as I didn’t or couldn’t or wasn’t available to me as I grew up. There wasn’t time made for me, I’ll tell ya that. However the time is now and has been for years now. Create the beauty that you can with the ones you love. Cherish the MUM image you have and make the idea part of all of this. The box is never going to be nearly bow tied but we can stuff that item into the stature we need it to be. I understand this isn’t the same for everyone. But today I salute you for trying. Be the love you nevwr received. Be the human you want to be. Trust that In the process of your carry, the love was possessed during this time. Motherly love.
What we lack is time. Tempus Fugit. All work and little play hey? Distant, here or near. Far forgotten or risen.
The Idea, Stature and Image of Mother is there for us all.