MY TURN: Being a mother is not easy

Being a mother is not easy. For when you become a mother you willfully make a choice to allow your heart to walk around outside your body. A mother laughs when her child is joyful. A mother cries when her child is hurt. And a mother is at peace when all her children, with cherub faces, tousled hair and warm blankets tucked up under their chins are fast asleep in their beds. This is the time that a mother can rest. She never really sleeps though, because she wants to be attentive to the slightest sound; a cough in the night telling of an oncoming cold, or a whimper telling of a bad dream. And with the speed and concern of a guardian angel she is there beside the bed with a warm hand, a cup of water or just a well-timed hug. 

A mother is, without a doubt, the most unique person on earth. She spends the first portion of her life preparing to love the child that she will be given, and doing all she can to raise him to be what he should be. And then she spends the next portion of her life letting him go. She knows that she has precious little time to instill into her children the character they will need to grow up strong, and straight, and true. She knows that she can’t do it all. She knows that her strength is limited, so she often asks for help from the good Lord. Whenever you see a young man or a young woman whose life is good, and honest, you know that there was a mother somewhere with bended knees and broken heart.   

Being a mother is a difficult job. You must have a will of iron and heart of gold. A will of iron that teaches right from wrong, and a heart of gold that overlooks honest mistakes. A mother has a smile as warm as her fresh-baked cookies. But sometimes she needs an icy stare that will freeze you in your tracks. 

As her children grow older, a mother’s job description changes, but not all that much. Where she once was called upon to stay awake at night with a baby that can’t sleep, she later lays awake at night waiting for her “baby” to come home from a date. Where she once cleaned messy diapers, she later will rummage through messy garbage cans at a local restaurant, looking for an orthodontic retainer that was accidentally tossed out with a napkin. Where she once cried as she let go of her toddler’s chubby little hand and watched him climb aboard a big yellow bus, she later will cry as she lets go of him one more time as he climbs into a streamer draped car with tin cans tied on the back and watches as her heart drives off into a new life. 

Mothers may age through the years, but somehow they always look the same. There is the same warm smile, the same heart of gold, the same loving arms. And someday we may say goodbye to our mom. As she leaves this world for the next, we can be assured that she will finally get that rest she deserves. But even then, she won’t rest for long. For in heaven there just may be some children who arrived before their mothers. And she will be busy taking those children into her gentle arms and helping them to grow strong, and straight, and true, until their own mothers arrive. 

And we who are left will carry on because of a woman who gave us her heart and her spirit and her life. 

Thanks Mom.

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Rob Wheeler is a Hayden resident.