A very special MOTHER'S DAY to all mothers out there in this world, especially my mom.
Mom...you are the most caring, thoughtful, unselfish and giving Christian I know.
The older I get, the more I realize all the sacrifices you made for the boys and I so that we could have endless opportunities.
THANK YOU for being the special person you are.
I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have you as my mom and I'm so thankful that I get to spend my birthday and Mother's Day with you this year...
I LOVE YOU!!!
A nice saying that one of my best friends sent me...thank you for sharing Brenda!
************************
For All the Mothers…
This is for all the mothers who have sat up all night with
sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laces with Kraft dinner and
wieners, birthday cake, and cherry Kool-Aid saying, “It’s OK honey, Mommy’s
right here.”
Who have walked around the house all night with their babies
when they kept crying and wouldn't stop.
This is for all the mothers who have shown up at work with
spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their
purse (dirty or clean!).
For all the mothers who have run carpools and made dozens of
cookies for school teas and sewn Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who
HAVEN’T because they’re at work trying to keep on top of the bills.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they’ll
never see. And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes and all
their love.
This is for all the mothers who have frozen their buns off
on metal bleachers at hockey, baseball or soccer games any night of the week instead
of watching from their cars, so that when their kids asked, “Did you see me?”
they could say, “ Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, and meant
it.
This is for all the mothers who have yelled at their kids in
the grocery store and swatted them in despair when they stomped their feet like
a tired 2-year-old does, who wants ice cream before dinner and then hated
themselves for “losing” it!
This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children
and explained all about making babies. And for all the mothers who wanted to
but just couldn't.
For all the mothers who read “Goodnight, Moon” twice a night
for a year. And then read it again. “Just one more time.”
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie
their shoelaces before they started school and for all the mothers who opted
for Velcro instead.
This is for all the mothers who taught their sons to cook
and sew and their daughters to be brave and strong (and sink a jump shot).
This is for all mothers whose heads turn automatically when
a little voice calls “Mom?” in a crowd, even though they know their own
offspring are at home.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school
with stomach aches, assuring them they’d be just FINE once they got there, only
to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick
them up. Right away. And they do.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, and who
can’t find the words to reach them.
For all the mothers who bite their lips sometimes until they
bleed, when their 14-year-olds dye their hair green.
What makes a good mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion?
Broad hips? The ability to nurse or feed a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a
shirt, all at the same time? Or is it the heart? Is it the ache you feel when
you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school
alone for the very first time? Or the terror in your heart at 1 AM when your
teenager with the new driver’s license is an hour late getting home?
The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to
crib at 2 AM to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby? Or to feel the
dull ache as you look in on your sleeping child the night before they leave for
college in another city.
The need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child
when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying? For all the mothers
of the victims of all the school shootings, and the mothers of those who did
the shooting. For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in
front of their TV’s in horror, hugging their child who just came home from
school, safely.
This is for mothers who have tearfully placed flowers and
teddy bears on their children’s graves. Whose children have died from illness,
accidents and the worst of all and hardest to comprehend, suicides.
This is for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes
and sleep deprivation. And mature mothers who have learned and are still learning
– to “Let Go.” For working mothers and
stay-at-home mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Grandmothers whose wisdom
and love remains a constant for their grown children and their children’s
children. For Mothers with money, and mothers without.
This is for you ALL – so hang in there.
No comments:
Post a Comment