Revisiting the Tenderness of Motherhood

The most tender memory I have of my mom was the care she gave me as a child when I was sick. Being with her despite not feeling good was filled with doting and tender loving care that lead to healing every time. My mom never used a thermometer to check our temperatures. Rather, she would give us a lingering kiss on the brow of our foreheads to determine if Tylenol was indicated. No one could take make my siblings and I feel better. Being allowed to watch “The Price is Right” before a non-negotiable nap was the “treat” before a reluctant return to bed for rest. The best thing about being sick, however, was the offering of a bowl of chicken noodle soup – the healing nectar guaranteed to make us feel better; especially when it was served on a TV tray as we lay on the couch. Granted it was usually the Campbell’s Chicken and Stars from the can, but for me, the lack of culinary sophistication didn’t matter. My mom embodied the magic of healing.Celebrating motherhood is about believing in the restorative power of love no matter what. Mothers are relentless in their capacity to offer encouragement and reinforcement of belief in her children. Sometimes it’s relatively simple, like on those days when her child wakes up with a high fever and suddenly the day’s mission is redirected. Rearranging an important work meeting, cancelling appointments, or streamlining energy to care for her child are done without question. Yet, the scope of this charge reaches far beyond 3rdgrade fevers and the 24-hour stomach virus.A mother’s wish for a simple remedy like a bowl of soup may work a time or two; but at some point, her child’s trek will enter the lane of his or her own life. An anxious kindergartner’s journey to the bus on the first day of school is preceded by a mother’s assurance and words of confidence (with maybe a fib or two about how a mom will do nothing but wait for the school bus return). Waving as the fretful set of eyes barely reach above the school bus window is probably followed by yearnings of maternal hope – wishing someone at the other end of the bus ride will receive her anxious child with a welcoming smile and open arms. When a teenager locks herself in her room after being cut from the high school varsity basketball team, her mother might stare at the closed bedroom door, searching a heart bank to find the right words of comfort. Often, the futility of words is replaced by the smell of her favorite pasta dish wafting from the kitchen, luring her daughter to rejoin the table. The hardest is when your child becomes an adult, and the desire to fix angst with a home cooked meal is a dream from a former time. Adults need to figure it out for themselves. If only, a mother wishes, she could make things better.

I think Mother’s Day is worth every greeting card lining grocery store aisles. My mom’s been gone over 7 years, and I’m certain there were a number of Mother’s Days when I didn’t express as much gratitude as I should have. But my mom, as many mothers do, has the last word. The photograph of her smiling perched on my kitchen windowsill stills me at random times.Recently, when my granddaughter was sick, my daughter called to let me know she was making chicken noodle soup. I already knew my granddaughter was in the best of hands. My daughter, after all, was served chicken noodle soup too. A mother’s dedication never retires. Sometimes, in the quiet of the day, I think of my mom and still feel her weathered face resting on my forehead.

For all you moms out there that feel your job as mother is exhausting, thankless, and never-ending . . . you’re right. But I might offer some encouragement to you. In the least glamorous moments of your mothering, greatest heart imprints are made. Your children are banking those moments you might think irrelevant. The bedtime story, the cupcake baking, or the backyard snowman creation feed souls for generations. Moms propel legacies of the heart. For me, one such treasure rests in a Campbell’s soup can. This Mother’s Day, if you can, tell your mom what you love about her. I guarantee, whatever that is, you will pass it on.