I’ve had my doubts about motherhood and its value in my life. Did everything go like I planned? Not even close. Did everything turn out like I hoped? Not a chance. Was it worth it? You bet. Why? Because I have grown up as much as my children have.
I have learned to roll more with the punches (though my children may not recognize my growth in that area), to be less judgmental, to be more empathetic, and to be slower to anger. I have learned to love in spite of the actions of others. I have learned to look deep into hearts and to remember. To remember times when life was young and offered all the opportunity I could hope for. I have learned to evaluate progress in baby steps.
And on this Mother’s Day, as I opened a manila folder of saved memories, and thumbed through now ancient tattered crayola cards to more recent memories, I found one extra special memoir from each of my children. Each mom, I am betting, has that day when a grown child realizes how much you have loved and sacrificed for him/her, and that he/she loves you in return. (Incidentally, to count, that moment has to come independent from any request for quick cash.) I’m certainly not perfect, but every once in a while my kids make me feel like I was the mom I always dreamed of being.
With the GAP, the literary one, it came in a poem, handwritten from the time I was a single mom.
A rose, tall and beautiful
Stands in the garden alone.
There is none to watch over her;
No one to care for her.
The only ones near her
Are those that she supports.
She remains strong, she needs none.
The days go by, one by one,
And with each day, a petal falls;
One by one, to the ground.
Her strength leaves her, unnoticed.
Then one day, she looks around.
She no longer has her beauty.
She is left a dry stem.
The only thing she sees are her children,
Who are not full grown and
Have not yet begun to bloom.
Failure now overcomes her,
For it is difficult to see
The goodness that has come from her efforts.
Grief surrounds her, breaks her heart.
From her eyes flow unending tears.
In her grief, she is blind.
She does not see that near her,
Her tears have enriched the soil
That beauty now grows from where once before
She saw nothing.
Her strength now depleted.
She collapses to the ground.
And for one short moment she sees
That through her pain she has allowed
Beauty to never die.
As technology advanced, email delivered the “ah-ha” moment from Hot Wheelz, when he was stationed in Bahrain, during the Gulf War,
I’m writing now because it is the 26th of January. I’m not sure why today is so special, maybe you can help me out. Nah, never mind, OOOOOHHH, I remember. Happy Birthday. So what sounds good for a present? I heard you have this fascination with camels. j/k Things are running pretty smoothly around here. Sometimes I have a hard time trying to get to sleep, which is kinda good cuz I get a lot of the things done that I need to. Like for instance the other day, I was up for 39 straight hours. But, I hope you have a nice birthday, no matter what you might think sometimes, you are a great mom, and I thank you for everything you’ve done for me. God knows it’s more than I deserved, but I probably wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for you. So thanx for being there for me. Love ya, NAVY MAN
P.S. You don’t have to get all mushy… Just tellin you how it is.
And from Coco, it came as a surprise, published in a program at a graduation luncheon.
I would like to thank my Mother, for not only helping me to survive college, but for serving as an example of what it is to be a brave, educated, gracious, patient, accomplished and occasionally silly woman. Writing a fitting thank you to my Mother proved more difficult than any paper I’ve written in my entire collegiate career … even Crop Ecology.
I guess it is only fitting that #4, sent a text message…
Mom, I just wanted to tell you that I think you are the most amazing individual that I have ever come across. I have been talking a lot about you lately and I would be happy if I could be 1/10 as good as a person as you.
I am still learning to allow my children to be who they choose to be. Do I have a favorite child? Yep, but it’s rarely the same kid two days in a row. It changes on any given day. Today I have four favorites.
Disclaimer: It dawned on me that some of you reading this post might think I am as good a mother as those four very distinct and far apart moments mentioned above make me sound. Just to put that idea to rest. I am not really that good, but if my kids want to believe it, who am I to stop them. 
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You should be wallowing in all that love! Hope it is a wonderful Mother’s Day.
Sweet Blog, Penny!