On Mothers.

I went home this weekend to celebrate my Mom, and let her know how much I appreciate her. One thing I realize the older I become is how hard it is to be a mother. I've observed- from watching my Mom- that it is both exhausting and exhilarating. It is frustrating, but it is also fantastic. It is an ever loving, always hoping, life-long commitment to a child. My Mom has often described being a mother as the hardest job she's ever had, but also the most rewarding.

On the way to church Sunday morning, I asked Mom some questions about being a mother. What had surprised her most about it? What had brought her the greatest pleasure? What had caused her the greatest sorrow? How did she feel when she found out she was going to be a mother?

Mom shared about the excitement of finding out she was pregnant, the painful experiences of labor, and the joy of a child. She described the wonder of finding every moment of her day filled with caring for an infant. She remembered the questions from my Dad's business associates at different work functions, "And, what do you do, Dabney?" And, Dad's ready defense- "She cares for our children. She works incredibly hard at that job, and I am so grateful for her presence in our children's' lives."

Before she was a mother, Mom worked in pharmaceutical sales. She lived on her own for a few years, dated, and then married my Dad, and enjoyed vacations with other couples. She loved the band Chicago, a generous glass of wine, being barefoot in the summertime, and relaxing near any body of water. And, then she had kids. Six of them. We turned her world upside down- in a good kind of way, of course. But, in a busy way, too. Suddenly she didn't have as much time to kick up her heels and enjoy that glass of wine, or relax by the ocean. Instead, there was carpool duty, doctors appointments, homeschooling for a season, shopping for new clothes, summer camps, sleepovers, skinned knees, library visits, and teacher conferences.

I never heard her complain about being a mother. I never felt I was an intrusion, a mistake, or a hamper to her other plans. I remember, instead, feeling valued and loved- even in the midst of five other siblings. Oh yes, it was busy. Yes, there were moments I wanted Mom's attention, and she may not have been available. But, she was committed to us- to school plays, notes in our lunch boxes, reminders of who God had created us to be, and to hearing us out when we had anything on our hearts. She wasn't perfect. But, she poured the best parts of herself into mothering, and loved us fiercely.

It's been almost 25 years since my mother became a mom. She'll be a mom until the day she dies. And, even though I've moved out of the house, Mom still mothers. She's still ready to listen when I'm feeling frustrated. She still sends me magazines and cards letting me know she loves me. And, these days we get to enjoy a glass of wine together.

I'm grateful for the legacy she's passing on to me and each of my siblings of what it means to be a Godly mother. I may choose to do things differently if I'm ever a parent, but I hope I'll keep many of the qualities Mom has showed me. I hope I'll love fiercely. I hope I'll be available. I hope I'll refuse to let any past mistakes define me. I hope I'll keep a sense of humor about me, and go barefoot in the summertime. And, I hope I'll move out with bravery and trust. Just like Mom.