I love mothers and I love Mother’s day. Especially because most of the millions of things mothers do out of love go unnoticed, slipping by without a thanks or an acknowledgement. But on one magical Sunday in May all of that changes and people remember everything that their moms have done for them, the millions of diapers, the countless sacrifices and all of the love they showed, no matter what.
I’ve travelled the world met mothers of every color and culture, the way they parent as diverse as their food. But what I’ve noticed universally is the sacrificial love of mothers, putting their children before themselves in almost every circumstance. When the mother in Africa goes without food to feed her children first, or of the mother in the States who works long hours to put food on the table, or the mother in Asia who stays up late through the night to comfort a sick child.
Mother’s day transforms the world with thankfulness. I love watching my newsfeed on Facebook fill up with people rejoicing over their mothers, posting photos of mothers kissing, cuddling and hugging their new babies. I shamelessly cry at some of the posts because their is something so beautiful about motherhood.
I remember as a little girl my mother, my older sister and I were all in a really bad car accident on a way to Halloween party at my pre-school. I’m pretty sure I was a sheep with cotton balls glued to my sweater, or at least that’s what my four-year-old memory tells me.
We slipped on black ice and were t-boned so hard that we crashed into the parking lot of an apartment complex. All I remember is my mom screaming and a stranger holding me as I cried. I remember shaking with fears as I rode in the ambulance with my mom with all of these wires attached to her chest and tubes in her nose, I didn’t understand what was happening to her and I knew I couldn’t go on this world without her. My mom had shattered her knee cap and had to stay in the hospital for awhile and we stayed with our grandparents. When I did see my mom again she had this giant yellow cast from her thigh to her ankle, but it in no way hindered her from loving us.
I don’t know how long my mom had that cast on (I’m writing this in Thailand right now, so I can’t call her up and ask her) but I do remember her pulling me and my sister around in a red wagon even with that giant thing on. Every time I think about it I cry, because I just can’t imagine how hard it was to be a single mom in that situation and how much love it took to drag us around in that wagon when she could barely walk. That, my friends, is what makes motherhood so beautiful. Love. An all-consuming, sacrificial love a lot like Jesus dying on the cross for us.
And that’s what makes me bawl like a baby every mother’s day, love, and just how much of it is given by mothers around the world. I mean imagine, just for a moment, a world without mothers. Just for us to take our first breath she went through enormous pain. It’s her blood coursing through our veins and her lessons that shaped you. Without her a lot of us wouldn’t know how to love or how to tie our shoes or how to pick ourselves back up after we fall down. She taught us how, never expecting so much as a thank you in return, just our love was enough.
So this mother’s day, say thank you, but more than that, tell her how much you love her- because that’s all she ever wanted anyway.
This one goes out to you mom, I will forever love you, as big as a grocery store.