MOTHER'S DAY 2022
This year will be the first Mother’s Day that I observe without my mother living on this earth. She died earlier this year in January. I have never been a person who cares much for holidays, but lately, they have begun to matter to me. I think it is because I have started to understand the importance of traditions and their abiding influence of comfort and treasured memories.
My mother was a Cajun woman from South Louisiana. Her fuse was measured by a Planck length. She was fierce in defense of her children, respecting God, and loving her country. She wouldn’t stand for shenanigans, abhorred dishonesty, and set children right no matter to whom they belonged. There was never a question about where my mother stood on anything. It was always on the right.
My mother’s motto was “Choose the Right, and if you don’t, you better watch out.” She made no excuses for anything or anyone. If you were her child, you better make sure that you stood blameless if anything were called into question. Why? Because if her children exercised a lack of integrity, she would bear their shame. My mother did not create shame of her own; she certainly would not tolerate it brought on by her children.
As Mother’s Day is swiftly approaching, the loss of my mother weighs heavily on my heart. I am a woman in her sixties, a mother, an aunt, and a grandmother. I worry when my death comes, will my legacy as a mother bear with honor? Have I done all that I can to prepare and arm my children and grandchildren for the struggles of life? Have I taught them to live with integrity, honor God, and love with sincerity (and without prejudice) their fellow beings? Have I raised defenders of liberty, honesty, and truth? Do they understand that to err is human, but forgiving is divine, and rewarding with love is far greater than punishing or walking away?
I love my children, my husband, and my grandchildren. I would not exchange one moment with them for all of the universe’s riches, celebrity, or privilege. I hope that they know that.
I hope they know that I am so honored to be in their lives. I pray that unthoughtful acts or unkind words will never sever us from each other or interfere with our love and dedication to each other. I pray that open communication will always be available to us. No matter what comes our way, they will never stop loving me because I will always love them and will never stop defending them. They are my life’s breath, all that will ever matter to me, and the love that beats through my heart.
Mother’s Day will be a difficult day for me this year. The bells have tolled, and the black flags have fluttered in my life. Before mother’s day arrives, I will visit my mother’s grave; I will tend and manicure it. I will drape her final resting place with wildflowers in recognition of her honor, her freedom from earth’s ravages and pains, her dedication to family and God, and the love a mother has (and the sacrifices she makes) for her children.
I think mothers often make the mistake of thinking that they are their children’s friends; nay, she is so much more. A mother has a divine purpose that no other has. Her privilege is to teach, build, protect, inspire, correct intuitively, and love her children. My mother did that, even when it was tough. She always stood above the level of a friend to the calling of a mother. She respected it, honored it, and fulfilled it.
She is gone now. We live on without her. We are grateful she no longer suffers the physical and emotional pains she bore. We love her for her sacrifices toward us, thankful that she loved us enough to invest in our futures and see through the fog of humanity to guide us through it.
We await our day of reunion when we shall see her without worldly cares. We anticipate meeting her at the Throne of Grace, worshiping at the feet of our Savior. On that day, our pains and trials will be lifted, and we can rejoice and give thanks for her triumphs as our mother.
This year will be the first Mother’s Day that I observe with my mother in her grave. She is gone but for a season. That season is dark, lonely, and cold without her glowing motherly flame.
