My mother didn’t have the same opportunities that I have enjoyed.
She grew up in rural Indiana in a log cabin with a dirt floor. The daughter of a cabinetmaker, there was no money to send her to college. So, when she completed high school ahead of schedule, she ventured into the work world. She raised three children, eventually attended secretarial school, held a few jobs in medical offices, and finally spent most of her time working as my father’s secretary. Ten years ago doctors discovered that she had an inoperable tumor and after exploratory surgery and a long, painful struggle with a feeding tube, she died.
I finished a bachelor’s degree and two graduate degrees. She held a high school diploma and a secretarial school certificate.
I didn’t see the ocean until I was 21. She didn’t see it until she flew over it to visit me as a student in Oxford.
I didn’t fly on a plane until I was 18. She didn’t fly on a plane until she flew over it to visit me as a student in Oxford.
I have lived in three countries and five states. She lived in two states and only one country.
But I relied on her love, looked to her for guidance, leaned on her faith, depended upon her strength, admired her wisdom, and looked to her for intellectual guidance. The gifts that she gave me are so much a part of who I am today that it would be impossible to untangle the fabric that is my life and take credit for any part of it without admitting my dependence on her.
Mother’s day is a good day to remember what it means to be a parent. It is a good day to remember that what we achieve or become is not ours alone. It is a good day to remember that the deepest, intimate relationships with which God blesses us are marked by unfathomable self-sacrifice — the gift of those who often enjoyed so much less than we enjoy.
In a world that is shaped by egotistical claims and constant carping about our rights, Mother’s day is a good day to practice gratitude and humility — a good day to breathe a prayer of thanksgiving for someone who made so much possible.
May light perpetual shine upon her…
I remember your mother very well. May you have wonderful memories to cherish.
I lost my mother seven years ago to complications of diabetes. Everyone’s journey is different, but nobody would be who they are or where they are without their mother.