On Mothers

As Mother’s Day approaches, it seems natural to consider mothers’ contributions to society--and to us, personally.  Mothers reading this may be thinking, “Yer darned right!” or “About time!”  However, I’m too aware that other readers, even if they’d never dream of saying it aloud, might be thinking more along the lines, “Do we really need another ode to mothers?  Haven’t we read enough sappy, idealized effusions of gratitude?  Sure, mother are great and we wouldn’t be here without them, but enough’s enough!”  

To them, I would respond, “So, if you thank a person once, you never need do it again?”  Sure, some “odes” come off a bit too strong or fluffy, and thanks given to other people’s mothers may not mean as much as thanks to mothers we know, but I would caution readers against ever taking anyone (mothers, fathers, teachers, construction workers--whoever) for granted.  Mothers in particular seem to get a lot of negative feedback--from their kids who had to wait ten minutes to be picked up from school; from every Tom, Dick, and Harry who likes to put in their two cents: “if those were my children...”; as well as from Freudian psychologists who blame parents for every perceived abnormality in their adult children.  Negativity even comes from the mothers themselves, who, like many women--mothers or not--tend to put burdens on themselves to be perfect and acceptable to society and/or God--yet who can attain perfection in this Fallen form?  They’re doomed to failure.  Thus, mothers need positive feedback where it’s due--not just to help them maintain a healthy self-image, but also because, if we think about it properly, they usually deserve praise and thanks more frequently than we give it.

Furthermore, what’s wrong with repetitious or belated thanks?  Sometimes we’re struck anew with gratitude for a particular kindness and feel it bears repeating months or years later.  (“I’m so glad you encouraged my education.”)  Other times our gratitude is late in coming--it may require hindsight to bring it to light, or even the experience of children of our own.  (“Thanks for not strangling me during my Terrible Twos.”)  A national holiday helps remind us to do what we ought to be doing all along.  It’s only a pity that we need the reminder at all.

Carole Denton and Laura Coon

             To the two mothers I’ve been blessed with: thanks for raising my husband and me.  Thank you for wiping our noses and our bums--for feeding us, clothing us, transporting us, and nursing us through illness. Thank you for sacrificing all the time you could have spent on your own pursuits to be there for us, to cheer for us, and to hug us.  Thank you for loving us despite being occasionally--okay, sometimes more than occasionally--displeased with our behavior.  Thank you for encouraging our education, introducing us to new experiences, and allowing us opportunities to explore music and sports and the arts.  Thank you for your patience and continuous efforts to curb our willfulness, our selfishness, and our tempers. Thank you for teaching us (sometimes by example) that it's okay to make mistakes, and that we should take responsibility for them.  Thanks for training us to value what’s good and godly, even if we don’t always behave as well as we know we ought.  Thank you for praying for us every day.  Thank you for teaching us to love others who may not seem very lovable.  And finally--most importantly--thanks for giving us your example of following Jesus and for encouraging us to follow and love Him, too.