I believe in mothers.
I
remember my grandparent’s house where we lived when we were small. It was a
fascinating adventure of a house for a little girl at play. On the second floor
there was a mysterious hole in the hardwood floor, about the size of a silver
dollar, which led down into the dark abyss of my imagination. I couldn’t help
but shove all of my mothers new and expensive hot rollers down one at time,
just to hear the thud and echo as they finally hit bottom. It was a thrilling
experience, one that I soon regretted as I began to consider just how I was
going to get those back into my mothers bathroom cabinet before she got out of
the shower.
As
small as I was then, my memory becomes fuzzy on just how my mother reacted, but
the important truth that shines through was that my mother never became angry,
or shamed me in my adventuresome spirit. Not once can I remember a time when
her convenience or needs came before mine. I was a tender growing reed that she
sought to shield, build up and shower with love.
I remember feeling a sinking fear as I
realized that my mother’s curlers were gone forever, fearing that I would
finally incur my mother’s wrath upon me. My mother however, was not that type.
She was the type to address first my need to learn and experiment in the world,
and then to gently correct and show me a better way. She taught me to
anticipate and consider the consequences of every choice. I have never known
such patience as that which she showed me.
I
believe in the power of a mother to instill confidence and self-worth in a
child. I believe this because I have experienced it, I have lived it; I am the
product of an amazing mother. Never will I claim to have it all together, or to
be perfect in any sense of the word, but without the gentle guidance and loving
reassurance of my mother, I wouldn’t be half the person I am today.
I
believe in mothers because now, I am one. I have been given the gift of a
beautiful spirit to love and to teach. I believe in mothers because now I know
that it doesn’t necessarily come easy, that patience isn’t a side effect of
child birth, that wow, I have to work at this every single day. I believe in
mothers because mine loved me enough to never give up on me, to push through
all my sleepless nights, my teenage attitudes and my indecision through young
adulthood. I know that because my mother did, I can. I can love my daughter
enough to make up for my faults and ensure that she knows from the bottom of
her heart that I will always be there for her. I know this because of my
mother. I believe in my mother.
