Mother. How do you know where to pull back from giving me too much of yourself? You have given so much. Even after I toddled to a walk, took sustenance other than that from your body, learned to fly, your hands reached into the air beneath me ready to catch. Did you ever overbalance in the effort? Lose your footing?
Mother. I learned how to make you laugh. It wasn’t easy. It was your job to make that difficult, in fact, as you worried over the details that would keep me safe, nourish and shelter me, allow me room to grow. It was a challenge to find that spark and ignite it. Every so often, it blazed to smiling life.
Mother. How can I repay your love and sacrifices? What gives balance to the nights holding me through sicknesses, the patched up knees, shouted defiance, difficult phone calls, the moments when I walked away from you and declared my path was none of your business? What grace brought you through it all with unwavering love?
Mother. I’m a mother now and realize daily how much of you passed into me. I catch glimpses of you in my mirror. Your voice speaks to my children, through my lips, as does your laughter. I hear your mother in there as well. A chorus in my instincts, guiding me. What incredible magic this is. The common bond that threads us together, shimmering its guidance across time.
Mother. Thank you. Every day I live is a gift you fought to make worthwhile. I embrace the privilege of having access to your wisdom. I love you.
Happy Mother’s Day.