I never forget that I am a mother. I sometimes forget what being a mother takes out of me. I sometimes call my mom and unload my worries on her, forgetting that she is my mother, which means she takes on my worries in addition to my childrens’ worries.
One beauty of being a grandmother is being able to visit with the children, watch them grow, play fun games with them and eventually give them back and take a big fat nap. I can only imagine one of the heartaches of being a grandmother is watching the downs of life happen to the grandchildren while simultaneously watching your own child suffer.
As a mother to two preschoolers, I feel their every pain, I share their fears and engulf their sorrows. My mind cannot quite wrap itself around the idea that I will someday do all of that for them and for their children.
I have been fortunate to have a wonderful role model. I strive to possess her empathy, her patience, her wit, her whole being.
While I relish in the day I fought so hard to deserve, I begin to understand my struggle was not mine alone. My mother was with me for every tear and every pain. I am honored to share Mother’s Day with such a loving mom. The joy makes the pain seem minuscule by comparison.
I love you, mom! Happy Mother’s Day. Though we are not together this weekend, know that you are with me always.