The sentiments in this were just so lovely I had to pass it on. If you are
not a mother, maybe you know a mother who would love this salute.
This is for all the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers
in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry
Kool-Aid saying, "It's OK honey, Mommy's here."
Who walk around the house all night with their babies when they keep
crying and won't stop.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair
and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew
Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see.
And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.
This is for all the mothers who froze their buns off on metal bleachers
at football or soccer games Friday night instead of watching from cars,
so that when their kids asked, "Did you see me?" they could say,
"Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world," and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store and
swat them in despair when they stomp their feet like a tired 2-year old who
wants ice cream before dinner.
This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained
all about making babies. And for all the mothers who wanted to but just
couldn't.
For all the mothers who read "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year.
And then read it again. "Just one more time."
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces
before
they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their
daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for all mothers whose headsturn automatically when a little voice
calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own off spring are at
home.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches,
assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from
the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right
away.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words
to reach them.For all the mothers who bite their lips sometimes until they
bleed - when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.
What makes a good Mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips?
The ability to nurse a baby, cooks dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all
at the same time? Or is it heart?
Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the
street, walking to school alone for the very first time? The jolt that takes
you
from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back
of a sleeping baby? The need to flee from wherever you are and hug your
child when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?
For all the mothers of the victims of all these school shootings, and the
mothers of those who did the shooting. For the mothers of the survivors,
and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child
who just came home from school, safely.
This is for mothers who put pinwheels and teddy bears on their children's
graves.
This is for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep
deprivation.
And mature mothers learning to let go. For working mothers and stay-at-home
mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers
without.
This is for you all. So hang in there.
Please pass along to all the Moms in your life. "Home is what catches
you when you fall - and we all fall." Please pass this to a wonderful Mother
you know. (I just did)
JanG