Contemplating Motherhood
The miracle of my birth. October 25, 1974.
Ok, I have to come clean. There is a new Procter & Gamble commercial that makes me cry EVERY time I watch it. It’s about being a mom. The tag line is, “The hardest job in the world, is the best job in the world. Thank you mom.” And it just captures the pure love, pride, and endless devotion that moms all over the world give to their kids.
Check out the long 2 minute version on the P&G youtube page.
As moms, our days are often filled with endless tasks… We put our children’s needs above our own… We tirelessly take care of all the details… We are our children’s #1 cheerleaders… We are devoted and strong. Often times, a lot of what we do goes unnoticed. There are plenty of days when I feel all my hard work goes unappreciated. But then there are moments when Miss M cuddles up with me and says, “I love you mommy” or offers to kiss my booboos or gives me that special look that she gives to no one else but me… And you remember what it’s all about.
Being a mom is often super emotional for me because I don’t have my own mother to turn to anymore. Every time I have a special moment or adventure with Miss M it makes me think of my mom and all the special adventures we had together. Overnights to funky little B&B’s across Nova Scotia… Dancing together at family functions… Traveling to different places… Seeing new things… As a daughter – and an only child – my relationship with my mom was especially close. We had an almost spiritual connection. An intuitive knowing. An unbreakable bond.
While I’m thankful for the 36 years we had together, I would have loved to have more. I still can’t believe she’s gone.
And this is why I must continue my fight. For Miss M. And for my mom.
I won’t let cancer take me away from Miss M the same way it took my mom away from me. I cannot give up. I cannot let down my guard. I must do everything in my power to stay on this earth as long as I can – to watch Miss M grow up… To guide her… Cheer her on… Love her unconditionally.
Make sure your mom knows how much you love her and how you appreciate all that she does. Treasure the moments you have together. Do it now. Don’t wait.
Peace. – T
On one of our mother-daughter adventures (1984)
I commend your courage and hope and your honoring of your mother. Jeannie was one of the nicest women I have ever known. Same for your father. I lost my mother about three years ago as well. I am so thankful that for the apporximately 10 years before my mother and father died that I went back to Minnesota to visit every year, just to make sure I got to share another visit with them and to let them know how much I love them. Your words are wise and loving. Your daughter is in very fine hands.
Thank you for the kind words. Yep, my mom was an amazing woman.
Sorry to hear about your loss. Seems none of us are immune… But glad to hear that love was shared and known between you and your parents. That’s what it’s all about. Best, – terri
You’re sounding so strong, and ever so wise. I spent yesterday afternoon at Laurie’s- we had a luncheon for some Rubbicco cousins from Boston. How special it is to get together and reminisce about the family. Then we watched Jeanne’s memorial, which brought us all to tears. I plan on spending my birthday next Friday in Ptown, visiting with my very special sister. Our strong family ties are a very special aspect of our lives….hope you can come and visit again soon. After Jessie’s wedding in September, Kathy and I were talking about me going to Tenn. for a visit-maybe we can hook up, too!
Love, and miss you, Auntie Maria
Guess everyone was feeling and missing mom yesterday. I found myself crying off & on all day yesterday, thinking about her. (Hence, the blog entry about motherhood). Her presence is so strong – still.
Count me in for a visit in the fall. Nashville is only a short ride away. And you know I LOVE road trips! Love you bunches. – T
How blessed Miss M is to have such an amazing mother as you… It is no coincidence that you are creating the same unbreakable, intuitive mother/daughter bonds as you had with your Mom. It began with Nana Fish, was passed on to my mother, to yours, and now on to Miss M.
Thank you yet again for this beautiful reminder of all that motherhood is, was and will continue to be…
Love you, Laurie
“I still can’t believe she’s gone”
This.
But maybe there is a good reason you can’t: you AND your mom shared the very practical trait of finding it pretty hard to believe things that aren’t so… Day before yesterday I was about to walk past the Drala store down on Grafton Street when something stopped me, and I went inside. They had one of those Buddha Boards that you draw on with water and what you draw turns dark and then after a while fades away. Your Mom had one — and when I visited your folks a few summers ago she explained to me about her altar shrine, and then as we were turning to go out of the room in a flash she had dipped her hand in the water and almost flung rather than drew a gorgeous circle that I later learned is called an ‘enso’. The whole day with her came flooding back, there in the back room of the Drala store…
I got the board — it is set up on the dining room floor at the moment, because I am baking cookies this morning rather than drawing ensos. But once the shortbread is cooled and wrapped I’ll put it back on the dining room table, so that when the impulse strikes I won’t need to use my toes to draw with…
After the visit with your folks, your mom mentioned in an e-mail that she was sorry we hadn’t had our picture taken when I was there. I wrote back that we didn’t need pictures — the ones inside us were enough. For quite a long time, though, I was sorry I didn’t have a picture of that particular ‘enso’… but this morning I realized that it’s in there, too.
The stories you tell here are all very precious to me, and I think to everybody you know or who has known even a little bit of you and the people you love and who have loved you. Thank you for them.
Much love to you and all your loving family,
John
I remember that board well. Miss M has enjoyed creating mini masterpieces on mom’s zen board many-a-times. It warms my heart to hear that you still feel her with you. As I tell Miss M all the time – She is in the trees, the ocean, the grass, and the air we breathe. She is all around us, and always will be.
Much love to you as well John. xx – terri
I only had the pleasure of meeting your Mom once, and I remember her as a lovely, gracious lady.
I understand where you’re coming from — my own mother passed away in 2003, and my dad in 2004. Today would have been their 48th wedding anniversary. They never knew their grandson, and as I tell my son stories about Grandma Anna and Grandpa Tony, I find I miss them even more.
Sorry to hear about your parents… I too, tell Miss M stories about her Nana all the time. We watch videos and look at photos. It totally sucks losing a loved one. But helps to know we’re not alone in our pain. Wishing you all the best. Peace & love, – T
Your dad said it best. Shared pain is lessened. Shared joy increased.
Thanks for sharing your joy.
Besides what you wrote so beautifully and poignantly, that is a fabulous picture of you and your mother, like a painting. I love it.
Much love,
Mary