A Mother's Day Card For All

While at the grocery store, I was perusing the carousel of Mother’s Day Cards to find the appropriate card for women I love whose mothering experiences fall within a very wide range. Most cards are what you might expect. “Thanks for loving me,” or “So glad you put up with me.” I’ve given and received many of these cards over my tenure as daughter and mother. However, as most women know, it’s impossible to encapsulate the spectrum loving and being loved by a mom into a greeting card.

Over the past year, I’ve known those who’ve lost their mom. Such new-found emptiness redefines loneliness. The first Mother’s Day without your mom gives new meaning to sadness. The unique and all-encompassing presence of a mom is a given, until it’s not. Not having the North Star of her physical presence never gets easier. I lost my mom 11 years ago, and still I absentmindedly reach for the phone to call her sometimes. My mom is still my North Star.   

Yet, what about those who weren’t afforded such love? Shouldn’t there be cards for those who mothered despite not being a mother? My daughter’s second grade teacher had no children of her own but nurtured entire classrooms of little ones for years with kindness, encouragement, hugs and twinkling eyes. She exuded motherhood, and I will be forever grateful for her presence in my child’s emerging world even after so many years. Such “other mothers” are not only teachers, but they are also aunts, neighbors, mothers-in-law, and big sisters. Maternal beauty and influence can be embodied by a sundry of women. Motherhood is not exclusive to those who raise children. I wish there was a Mother’s Day card for them.

And then there are young women whose journey towards motherhood is hard and tests every faith in what it means to be hopeful. Infertility issues, miscarriages, or the grueling wait for a call from an adoption agency expand definitions of pain, patience, and heartbreak. Such realities are rarely part of a life plan. The unexpected call to endure such a roller coaster of yearning is tough. Counter those experiences with “older” women who accept the challenge of raising children far beyond the expected. Recently, I was with a woman well into her 50’s who is raising twin 5-year-olds due to circumstances she could have never envisioned. Her response when asked how she’s doing navigating life with a second go-around at mothering was, “It’s a calling.” Clearly, her love for these bonus children transcended her expectation for embracing a next chapter in her life. Motherhood, indeed, is a calling.

So there we have it. There is no way a greeting card company could design enough cards to acknowledge the gamut of motherhood. This Mother’s Day, in whatever way you’ve experienced being a mom, I hope you feel appreciated for all the encouragement, mentoring, and love you bestow. Being a mom or mom-like puts you in a big world where the only guarantee is that love will stretch your heart in ways never imagined.

My mom had a small granite stone which sat on her nightstand. Engraved in black against the grey speckled rock were the words, “In the quiet moments of the day, I think of you.” No matter how you’ve touched the realm of being a mom, these words say it best; softly, tenderly, and lovely. I’m sure there will be a quiet moment on this Sunday when you will think of your mom or other women who filled your cup with nurture and love. Here’s to hoping the vast, healing, and hopeful power of a mother’s love will envelop your heart. Happy Mother’s Day to all.