Mothers

What do I know of mothers? I had one.  I wouldn't be here if I didn't.  I guess we all did.  Even Jesus.  There was pain in our arrival.  The pain was forgotten with the joy that came.  But I was capable of providing pain even later on.

 

Then the verb, "to Mother".  I was mothered by birth and then mothered by choice.  My mom died when I was 13 (as did my dad).  Truck accident.  Duluth Minnesota.

 

So I was mothered by choice.  Mothered without the joy of childbirth but I managed to provide pain later.  I am grateful the pain didn't sever the relationship. This note can't express what that really means. 

 

I have a pastor friend who was raised by a relative.  There is a tentativeness of the inability to describe your feelings that goes with honoring the mother chosen by fate and duty to provide a home and a life to one without one. 

 

I'm thankful for his and I'm thankful for mine.  So, first to Ruth.  Mom.  Mother.  She is my Aunt.  She is my mom.  I don't know how to make that work.  It's always been complicated. I want to say Blessed Mothers Day.  You are one.  A blessing.  You chose.  That's beyond the call of duty.

 

There's another Mother.  My wife.  Mother of my two boys.  I am in awe of her.  Sometimes I'm mothered.  She's my best cheerleader.  She believes in me when I hardly do sometimes.  She loves me when I don't feel loveable.  That's being a mother.

 

So, to siblings Sue, Carol, Barb, Mary, Marla.  Mothers all.  This is your day.  We of the son persuasion cannot understand the meaning of being a mother.  I guess it's supposed to be that way. 

 

So the best I can do is say Thank You, Thanks for bringing life into the earth.  Thanks for being the mother God created you to be. 

 

I have tattooed you on my heart.  MOM with an arrow thru it.  It's invisible to the naked eye but when you see me you see the tattoo of the love you shared.  Every man, every son, every daughter has that tattoo. 

 

It's permanent.