Lucas has been sick with a bitter cough all week. Two days ago, our doctor told us it would be best for him to take a few days off of school and rest. So we settled back into a life we haven’t enjoyed much since school began… the mellow days of hanging in our backyard, gardening, playing, wondering….the best “school” of all.
I was grateful for the“reprieve” from daily life and the reminder of how much joy there is in our
simple little farm. Lucas relaxed in the shade. Maya made observations like, “Mama! All animals have feet but some don’t have arms, like chickens and birds!” I pulled weeds to my hearts content and took little breaks to simply observe our silkie hen Puff and her (adopted) chick Millie, duck in and out of plants. It is such a tender sight, this mother/child duo.
Puff, who is the most unlikely hen, the one who would get lost all the time, who we would find fallen asleep in random places, not making it to the coop in time, who was clearly lowest on the pecking order (literally)…yes, Puff, is the one to rise to the occasion of motherhood. And for this reason she inspires me, because even though she is not the “strongest” or “brightest,” her instincts are pure. She guards her baby with vigor and confidently clucks to guide her in where to go, what to eat, and how to dig a fine dirt sunbathing spot.
Today, as I drove around making my Mother’s Day wish of a pretty side-yard happen, picking up plants and supplies (while Sean stayed home making it happen with his digging muscles) my children who are sick and whiny, tested my mothering patience….And yet, I sought to be “mother with a capital M” as I heard so eloquently described by author Sara ReginaRyan, the act of rising to the greatness the term Mother implies by allowing the love and beauty of the Divine Feminine to flow through us (regardless of whether we have children). Or rather because of my observations of Puff, I rested back into it, trusting it was there.
All the while, memories of my mother… her strength and enduring love, came to me often. This is my first Mother’s Day without her, and I miss her. Miss the mother I came to know in the days of her dying and afterward. Miss the mother with a feisty spirit but tender words of love for her children. Miss the mother who knew, what Puff knows; that you take care of your babies! Even in the midst of my mom’s nervous breakdown when I was four, when “the voices” were telling her to harm me, she still retained the “mother” part of her who would check on me religiously to make sure I was okay. Our life together was messy, heartbreaking, but she did her best and there were many moments where this fierce, this pure, this essential Mother shone through.
So tonight, I celebrate the gift of Mother with overwhelming gratitude. The biological or adopted mothers who loved us in the best way they could. The mothers we have met along the way who poured love into places we didn’t even know were empty. The great mothers who came before, who have left us with powerful models of what it can be to be woman, sister, crone, and all-ways Mother. The mothers in all of us (with or without children) who naturally reach out to others with love, care and compassion. And the mothers in us who are the wise keepers of our soul, connected to God/Love, to bring in the healing and self-nurturing we’ve always longed for.
Mother with a capital M. It is there in all of us. Celebrate it and give thanks for this powerful expression of the Divine!
Blessings to all of you on Mother’s Day!!!