I have had mothers…several of them.
I have been a mother – often.
I have known mothers – all kinds.
I have mothered children who have grown to become mothers.
Today is mother’s day….
Today isn’t the day mother’s do nothing(is there such a day?)
Today mother’s are mothers. Just like yesterday, and the day before.
There is no “day off” from motherhood.
Birth doesn’t instantly qualify you as a mother – years do.
Years and time and events,
tears and smiles and stretching past any believable limits you ever had imposed on yourself.
Motherhood isn’t biological –
In fact most of the time it isn’t even logical.
It’s exhausting, and depleting in time and resources –
I promise…you wont get rich becoming a mom.
And you wont get awards.
You may even barely be noticed because what you do you do it so well, so smoothly, that no one sees the lines where thgnis are attached and you have brought them together.
Motherhood is earned…
Over time and space and events and life – it is earned.
And as you grow from child to teen to young adult
your mother becomes someone else
and adversary
a friend
a counselor
an example.

I had the best kind of mother…and I miss her so.
The kind who believed in me ALL THE TIME…especially when I was broken and imperfect. She lifted me up when my knees were not just on the ground – but nearly in it.
My 2 o’clock in the morning person.
My friend-sister-soul-mate-mother. And I miss this all-in-one person. There can only be one like that – even more than all other mothers. I was very very lucky.

My birth mom and I were chronic writers. We would write journals and notes and letters to my kids – she was so thrilled to be a grandma. When I would give birth, she would play-by-play it in a journal entry.
I was reminded of this yesterday when I spent the day with my youngest daughter, going through the old family cedar chest where I found an old journal where I kept day by day entries about my kids when I was pregnant and they were very little.
I wrote a poem while I was still pregnant with Sara. I’d like to share part of the journal entry with you…

“October 17, 1996…
‘Note to my grown up kids…
If you are reading this 10 or 20 years from now I have to tell you all how wonderful you were as babies and children – being your mother has been the best part of my life.

I wrote you a poem…


You are my child
As familiar to me as my own breath
At one time
my heartbeat
was yours
my blood
your blood
My songs
Your voice
Then you emerged in all your glory
Splendid a the first sunrise
Dewey with the effort
Bellowing out your triumph.

Are lives are together now
Inextricably intertwined
like two hands

Each day
you are more amazing to me
Your laugh
your words
your art

I cannot remember my life without you
Because you have always been
a part of me

Now I’ll grow older
and you’ll grow up
and I’ll watch you all
choose your path

All I can hope
is that I am equal to this task
of motherhood.

For my children
Love mom

Gratitude to all the mothers.
Prayers for the Imagemothers of lost children today.



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