What it means to be a mother…to me
Tuesday, May 13th, 2008This position I’ve taken as “Mama” means more than any other title I’ve ever possessed–eldest daughter, first American born grand-daughter, oldest sister, niece, student, friend, wife, wedding consultant–because this title creates a true sense of responsibility to another person. This is not to say my other identities did not also encompass a sense of responsibility–it did, immensely. With the other identities, though, I really did have the option of passing on some of the burden, abandoning it even; I just chose not to. In clarity, there could always be someone else to take my place even when I wanted to believe that no such thing could be true.
As “Mama” my children’s life depends on me. Sure, there are grandparents, aunts, and uncles; they can share the burden at times with feeding, entertaining, strengthening my children’s sense of self and independence. But, at the end of the day, it is “Mama” who knows them and molds them and confirms the very value of their existence.
“Mama” chose to give you life because I love you.
“Mama” chose to harbor your life because you are a gift and so gifted, too.
“Mama” does any thing to ensure the best for you, your life, and afterlife.
This is the first identity I’ve possessed that I do not expect for anything in return. My boys, they are the gifts, the reward. To be their Mama, to love them unconditionally is in all clarity my selfish want to give love.
“You need to have a girl, a daugther, ” I’ve been told, to be my caretaker when I reach old age.”
Your sons will leave you, “they said. “You’ll suffer.”
Maybe they’re right. Maybe my sons will forget their old mother on Mother’s Day, with not even a phone call to tell her how much they appreciated her. Maybe they’ll abandon me for their in-laws. Maybe my sons will be too busy to give me a ride to the doctor’s.
Maybe I will be left alone in an empty nest save for a few visits a year. Maybe I will regret not taking heed to their advice.
But, this is life. If there is one thing my boys have taught me, it’s this: in life, there is no certainty. I’d like to think I’ve raised my boys right to think of their Mother from time to time and in her moments of weakness.
Here’s the beautiful thing: I’d take it a compliment that they’d one day spread their wings and conquer the world. I’ve given them life, helped build them a foundation, and it’s up to them to live the life worthy called of living and embracing. My boys, they’ll move mountains!Here’s how our Mother’s Day went down:
