Mother's Day

Today is Mother's Day. It is for remembering why we got here. Without mothers, none of us would be here, unless you were born in a lab. Quite frankly, I don't know anyone who was born in a lab. Although, I am sure there have been one or two. It would explain a lot about bad drivers or idiot politicians, but that's another story. Geting back to mothers. They put up with a lot. They take you places. They teach you things. And for what? The love and satisfaction of being a mother. I have no idea what kind of pain it is to have a child. I have been in pain before, but they say that childbirth is the worst. Why would anybody put themselves through that? Because it is what love is all about. Pain yields to love. Boy, that is profound. Everybody, write that down. Pain yields to love. Not the other way around. Or, it shouldn't be the other way around. Sometimes, it is. I have written here some about how much I loved my Mother. She was a special person. A writer. A creative person. A person who loved a good joke. Monty Python. Mel Brooks. A person who loved music. The Beatles. Broadway. A person who loved me. Unconditionally. No matter what. I was visiting a church last Sunday and ventured into their library. My eyes were drawn to a set of books that I immediately recognized. The Life & Work series. Why would I notice these? Because my mother wrote the lesson plans for the Life & Work Sunday School teachers in the Southern Baptist Convention. She was very good at it, although she was humbled by being asked to write them, and wondered why they picked her. So, I got to see her name in these books. I was proud of her, but it also gave me another sense of love. She did all of this writing, but she also took the time to be my Mother. She never ignored me at the expense of her job. Yes, I know that times have changed. There isn't many stay-at-home moms. I can't criticize working mothers. But, my Mother was my best friend. She understood me. A hard feat at best. Not too many people have understood me. Some have tried. Some have seen bits and pieces. But, Mother understood me. She may not have agreed with some things in my life, but she understood. She criticized without judging. Even after she had her stroke and couldn't care for us, her mind was still clear and had things to say. Things about what we should do. Things about how we were doing. She was very opinionated, but she was also a good listener. When it became increasingly difficult for her to voice words, she spoke volumes by squeezing your hand. Sometimes she squeezed so hard that it cut off the circulation. It was painful, but she did it out of love. Love oozed from her hand to mine. Mother went to Heaven almost five years ago. I miss her every day, but she is in my heart. That sounds trite, but it is true. And, I know that one day we will be reunited. Don't know when. Don't know how. But, I know it is true. Happy Mother's Day to all of those women out there who give of themselves every day with not wanting for any fame or glory. And, to my Mother--thanks for understanding me.