ALL KINDS OF MAMAS...

I am an ambivalent fan of Mother's Day.

Any  day  that  honors Mamas is more than justified.    But Mother's  Day is one of those  Hallmark  holidays  that often misses the mark.   I've yet to find a  card  that says everything needed to be said about this day;  never found the right words  to honor our Mothers while acknowledging  the pain of our sisters (or brothers)  who find Mother's Day to be painful or oppressive.  

Whether you think of your Mom as The Egg Donor or your Best Friend, one thing is for  sure:     Motherhood is not an exact science.   Mamas come  in  all shapes and degrees of neurotic-ness...

1)  SINGLE MOMS:  The hardest working Mama in show business. I don't know how you do it, how you manage to stay upright from the backbreaking load of responsibility. Three words to you: You Are Enough. All your babies ever really need to know is that you love them and will always be there for them. Even when you've locked yourself in the bathroom just to freaking pee in solitude.

2)  NEW MOMS: Smelling like spit-up, these Moms are pretty sure they are doing everything wrong and perceive every comment to be a judgment of their inadequate parenting skills. I would gently say to these young mothers: believe in yourself.  Embrace your God-given intuition and never doubt that you are the only one who could be the Very Best Mother for your child.  Trust the unbreakable bond that you have with your baby. And if the Voices of Experience are getting on your last nerve, rise above. Don't allow your insecurity to limit the love available to your son or daughter.  Children cannot be overloved.

3)  CHILDLESS MOMS: Those who would give anything to be a Mom, who feel forsaken by God. My sweet sisters, your infertility is not a curse... your miscarriages are not “God's will”.  Please, my broken-hearted friends, please know this: He will never waste your pain. He will give you what you need. He will use you to fill the void in other lives, to bridge the gap.  Your arms will be filled with those who need you most.

4)  BROKEN MOMS: You precious souls who come from a cycle of brokenness; who were raised by troubled Mothers who instilled your soul with worthlessness and insecurity. To the children of these Moms, I would say four words: It Isn't About You. Your Mother's lack of parenting skills would translate to any child placed in their arms. Your highest purpose in life is to break the cycle. I am amazed by your strength and perseverance. Broken Moms raise amazingly empathic and self-reliant children.

5)  GRIEVING MOMS: I can't imagine what it is like to lose a child – whether in utero or one that has been walking around this planet for years. Losing a child defies the laws of nature. We are here for you, to hold you, to listen to your stories, to speak the name of your child when your heart simply needs to know we haven't forgotten. We honor your grief.

6)  AGING MOMS: Ahhhh, my sweet Mama. It's hard to see her body failing, painful to watch her struggle. May I always treat her with the respect and dignity she deserves. May my well of patience never run dry. May I cherish every day of our lives together. Give us strength as we walk our aging Mamas home. And for those whose Moms have found their way to heaven, hugs for your aching heart.

7) MARTYR MOMS: The Moms who never sleep, who never eat, who never shower because they are too busy seeing to the needs of their children. Who post their monthly menus on Facebook and color coordinate their children into high school.  Stop the insanity! I promise you will not go to hell for failing to iron your baby's crib sheets.  Nor will CPS come and get you for hiding your favorite cookies from the kids.

8) STEP MOMS: Blessed souls who often end up with half the responsibility and none of the recognition. Seriously, is there anything harder to blend than a family? Hats off to you. Sending buckets of patience and a fresh tongue, as yours is surely chewed to shreds.

9) FOSTER MOMS / ADOPTIVE MOMS: These Moms truly amaze me. To be chosen by God to raise a child who grew beneath anothers' heart, to take them into your life and make them yours. There is a special place in heaven for these Mamas.

10) GREAT MOMS: The ones who never tried to be your best friend, but busted your butt when you needed it. The ones who encouraged you to find your own way. The Mama whose love was unconditional, but not without consequences. These are the Moms who never stop hugging first.  And who make a mean pot of spaghetti.

11) ABANDONED MOMS: I ran away from home once, when I was seven. My Mom had angered me mad beyond reason, so I made sure she watched as I packed my red plaid lunchbox full of food and headed out the door. I walked to a shade tree at the end of the block, sat down, and ate the entire content of my lunchbox in one sitting.  Suddenly foodless, my future looked grim.  I quickly decided that Mom had been punished enough and it was time to return home. Silly story, I know. Because I have friends whose sons or daughters  made life choices that took them too far away from home. I pray an extra measure of God's peace upon these Mamas. There but for the grace of God, go I.

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I could go on and on, couldn't I? There are too many kinds of Mamas to mention.  
Guess which Mom did not make the list?

THE PERFECT MOM

No mention of that chick, because she simply does not exist.  Every type of Mom, at one time or another, has managed to screw up the most important job we'll ever have. Thank you for the grace, Baby Jesus.

Wherever you may be along the continuum of Motherhood... may we all learn to celebrate our journey, support each other, believe in each other, lift / hold / prop one another up, never judge, always love. May we be full of compassion, stop trying to one-up each other, and strive to be somebody's shero.

Because it does take a village, y'all. Whether you are a Mom-to-be, New Mom, Surrogate Mom, Mr. Mom, Grieving Mom, Aging Mom --- whoever you are, wherever you are --- you are the village.

We Are The Village.

We weep with those who weep, we rejoice with those who rejoice.

On this Mother's Day, I hope you find a reason to rejoice...

It's Still Last Night...

When we were barely teenagers, my friend Karne and I would write each other sweetly poignant notes that always began with: “It's still last night..."

We would pour out our girlish hearts on 3-holed ruled paper, celebrating requited puppy love with our pimply-faced boyfriends and/or agonizing over unrequited crushes unaware.  They were  lengthy epistles full of the inherent angst common to teenage girls everywhere.

The connection between us was destined and deep.

We lived the privileged lives of nurturing homes, the rarefied sanctity of supportive and intact families.

Though our hearts were joined, our paths were varied. She was a reporter for The Bulldog Growl and a budding Thespian. I was a big-mouthed cheerleader who sang quietly off-key in the choir.

We graduated and went our separate ways. I plighted my troth with the Dickman and she headed off to college with a backpack full of dreams. Although communication dribbled to sporadic at best, our conversations always began exactly where they had ended.  Never missing a beat.  A quirky gift of language common to friends of the heart.

Karne came back home to get married, and I was her bridesmaid, as she had been mine. 

She celebrated the birth of my two sons,  while having trouble conceiving, herself.  God finally blessed her with a son who grew beneath her heart and one who grew inside of it.

Her precious mother died too young. My father too, then hers. We carried each other through the losses. She has commiserated with the dramas of my life and I have helped her laugh through hers.

This weekend, the Dickman and I were honored to join her in celebrating the wedding of her oldest son. It was a stunning event, set in the beautiful north Texas countryside.

We wore our matching boots...

She wore The Horsehead...

And I cheered as she danced with her newly wedded son.

When I returned to the hotel, my heart was too full for sleep. So, I did what came naturally. I sat down and wrote my Karne a letter...

Dear Karne,

It's still last night...

I can't begin to tell you how happy I am for you, for where you are in your life Right Now. You've never seemed happier, never smiled brighter, never been more beautiful than you were tonight.

I know your Mom and Dad were at the wedding. I felt their presence all around us and I know you did, as well.  An unspoken understanding, none the less expressed.

You and I, we've done a lot of living since the halcyon days of our youth. If those two silly girls knew what lay ahead... well, their skinny knees would've been knockin'.

If we knew then what we know now, we would have never left the safety of our Mama's kitchen tables nor abandoned the healing powers of Green Chicken Noodle Soup.

Remember when we thought we had all the answers? Thank God we were too naïve to realize just how difficult the questions would become; too innocent to imagine that growing up could be so painful and unpredictable, so beautiful and shattering. No one could have convinced us of all the ways life would try to break us, then somehow assured us the love around us and between us would unfailingly put us back together, again. And again.  Every.Single.Time.

I can't imagine my world without you in it.

The Gift of It All hit me last night as I looked through the lens, ready to capture you and your Timmy in all your post-wedding dancing bliss. With my finger poised to snap the shutter of my little pink camera, you turned and smiled right at me...

And my eyes filled with tears at the glorious happiness on your beautiful face, the love sparkling from your eyes.

Friend of my soul, dancing with the love of her life. Celebrating the hope of the future, while surrounded by sweet spirits of the past. 

Keep those red boots dancin', my friend.  

Love You Infinitely,

Wob