the day after mother’s day

May 14, 2012

I spent this Mother’s Day cooped up in a little car, driving about 600 miles (well, Richard did the driving, I did the moaning, sleeping, and constant rearranging of pillows under my hips in a pitiful attempt to make myself comfortable) and returning to our home from being out of town for ten days. As we drove, I was aware it was Mother’s Day, but I didn’t think too much about it. I was focused on my mission of making it home without hurting my hip too badly and reuniting with my children. Fisher and Annes gave me two roses, red and pink, and a new journal. Keziah gave me a caramel apple and made a cute Mother’s Day sign for my door. Blythe changed my sheets and made my bed up with all the pillows in place. Lovely gifts and I was thoroughly surprised by all of them because I wasn’t really in the Mother’s Day mindset. Today, though, is another matter. Today my mind and heart are full of motherhood thoughts.

First, I thought of my own motherhood. I thought of how it has changed me and helped (forced?) me to become a more thoughtful, more giving person. I thought of my hopes and dreams for my life and how they never, not once, involved children. In my past life, I simply had no desire to be “bothered” by children. I thought of how grateful I am that God sent me Richard and how his gentle, stable ways softened my heart and gave me a different vision of what my life could be. I thought back to the sweltering day of Blythe’s birth and how instantly and completely my heart was transformed into a Mother-Heart.

Then, I started thinking of all the others in my life who have blessed me with their Mother-Hearts. My own mother has infused me with courage, determination, and a belief in goodness that has carried me through the experiences, good and bad, of my life. My mother has never had the safe companionship that I have with my Richard. She has never shared faith, hopes, or dreams with her husband. She has never felt cherished. And yet, she perseveres and her example of enduring has taught me more than she will ever know. Now that I am a little older, we are dear friends and I can’t really imagine going through a single day without talking to her. She is my biggest fan and supports me in all I do. Aside from her mothering, she is a rock-star grandma. She is absolutely in love with her six grandchildren and spends as much time as she can with them. She plays with them, reads to them, spoils them with ice cream, takes them swimming, listens to their bug stories, lets them sleep with her, allows Annes to rub her, comes to their special events, and believes in them. She is the most involved grandma I have ever seen and I am full of gratitude that she is able to give so much of her heart to them.

My grandmother taught me how to live a noble life and she loved me so deeply that my heart has a never-ending supply of legal love tender. Because of her I will never be bankrupt in the love department. My grandma’s influence will be felt for generations. Her example of Christlike living will be carried on through her hundreds of grandchildren and great-grandchildren and thousands of people will end up being blessed by her Mother-Heart.

I spent the past week with another grandma of mine…a grandma I got when my mom married her son when I was twelve years old. I have always loved her, but have never spent much time with her. This week we stayed up late talking about life and love and God and family. We giggled. We worked on my genealogy. We ate scrumptious food. We got to know each other as grown women and we fell in love with each other all over again.

I thought of the mothers on my father’s side, none of whom I know, but who I am coming to appreciate. I thought of their suffering and what their lives must have been like…and I became ever more grateful for my own life.

I started thinking about the countless women who nurtured me during my tumultuous growing up years. Women who loved me, taught me, and sacrificed for me. I honestly don’t know that I could have made it out of teenage-hood alive if it weren’t for the women in my small town who adopted me right into their lives and helped me shoot for the best that was within me.

I thought of my husband’s mother and how grateful I am for her and the amazing son she raised. Her choices to live the gospel, to love her children, and to teach them well bless my life every day. I thought of her struggles and triumphs and wanted to rush right over to her home and give her a great big hug.

I thought of the women who surround me now and who have mentored me in mothering. I am full to the brim with gratitude to have a support network of dedicated mothers who are striving to create strong, healthy, FUN-ctional families.

Finally, as I sit here typing, I am thinking of my children. I love them. Fiercely. I am so grateful for each of their powerful spirits and how their presence in my life teaches me lessons I need every single day. I am so grateful to be not only a mother, but their mother. These children who have been entrusted to my care are good, strong, vibrant spirits who allow me to share my heart with them. I thought of the ten babies who we have miscarried and sent them my love, knowing that somehow they will get my care package.

Right now, Blythe is mowing, Keziah is cleaning the yard, Fisher is at reading lessons, and Annesley is sleeping…and I am crying with a heart so full of love for them I think sometimes it might burst. I have given my life to them and yes, it is absolutely worth it.

I am grateful for all the Mother-Hearts out there…every single one of them is needed…and no, you don’t have to be a mother to have a Mother-Heart…you just have to love.