A Mother's Job Is Never Done
Featured in the Dayton Daily News
I was looking for a buried pair of shoes in my closet recently and came upon a basket my daughter gave me for Mother’s Day many years ago. I think she was probably around 8 at the time, and inside the basket were strips of construction paper colorfully decorated with markers and stickers. Each piece of paper included a “coupon.” One said “I’ll make dinner,” another invited me to take a walk around the neighborhood with her. And the ones I loved the most were simple declarations of how much she loved me. My treasured closet “find” put me back 20 years as my children offered the daily joys and challenges of loving them. As their mom, every triumph, challenge, hurt and joy seemed to enter my “office,” located somewhere between the kitchen table and the high school soccer field. Those days, my maternal tasks had no end. Now, as my children are grown, laundry and casseroles no longer define my days, but the dedication of love for them remains absolute. I don’t think any woman really knows the scope of energies required in motherhood until she has children of her own. I see the excitement of those women pregnant with their first child, I smile knowing their hearts will be stretched in ways they can’t even imagine. True, they expect sleepless nights soothing a fussy infant. And yes, the toddler years will challenge them with their child’s unrelenting use of the word “NO!” But there are other things that she can’t even envision. On a recent walk, I saw a young mom pushing her special needs child in a wheelchair. The tenderness by which she adjusted her child’s head in the wheelchair headrest, and the light in her eyes as she bent to kiss her made me pause. Yes, this mom probably never expected to be so wholly charged with caring for this extraordinary daughter, but there was no doubt of her dedication. The stories of mothers rising to meet the varied challenges of their children are remarkable examples of love and devotion. The role of mom is an entirety.
Mothers never go off duty. Concern for her kid’s well-being reach far beyond the parameters of childhood, much to the dismay of her adult children. I’m sorry, but reminders to get more sleep, or nudges because you love their girlfriend, or gentle suggestions they move on from that not-so-great boyfriend are difficult to stifle. I’m told they really are doing fine on their own. “I’m ok,” they tell me. If only they walked in my shoes.
Six years ago, as my siblings and I sat with my dying mom, my gratitude for her all-encompassing examples of love filled the space of recollection. I know weariness and fatigue laced her years of maternal devotion. The map of wrinkles framing her weathered face offered proof of her unrelenting promise to love. Her body was failing, but she found enough tenacity to raise a pointed finger, look at us and say, “My love will never leave you.” And indeed, it hasn’t. As we approach this Mother’s Day with reflection, there are many who look for the perfect gift. Jewelry store advertisements, florist deals for the perfect flower arrangement, and suggestions to make reservations for Sunday brunch flood the possibilities of celebration. And yes, it’s probably prudent to do something for your mom, but as I looked at my “coupons” for the simplest of offerings, I realize my greatest gifts live within my heart spaces for my children every day. Maybe I’ll call my daughter and suggest we take that walk around the neighborhood.