blossoms in colors unimaginable... with benefits beyond comprehension"
Mother' Day 2010 is soon to be.
I am not ready for it.
I have often wished that Mother's Day was held on the day of ones birth. A combined affair where the event celebrates the birth of a new being, and the transformation of another.
These celebrations would big like Easter, Thanksgiving, or Christmas, and have a spiritual tone rather than a secular one. The original event of our birth was a very spiritual one. A soul expanding, unifying connection, that unleashed a flood of emotion that, in reflection still holds it's original enchantment and surrealism. These events would be held several times a year, corresponding to the number of births a Mother has experienced. I would not label these celebrations as Mother's Day or Birthday. They would rather be called Love Day, for it is memorializing the first day of loving and being loved.
Lets face it. We were not born with a concept of love. We learned it from our Mothers. We nursed, cried, messed, slept, got sick and then well again, all because our Mother first loved us. As we got older all the hugs, kisses, and snuggles from Mother brought us warm feelings that we enjoyed experiencing. We found that giving hugs, kisses, and snuggles to others also felt good. We may not have understood why these actions created emotions in us, or what these emotions meant, but we would label them as love and continue to grow from there.
As we grew together, Mother would (without any thought or expectation for repayment), express her love for us through her ongoing sacrifice. Sacrifice was a condition that was occurring right from the beginning, starting with morning sickness, emotional disorientation, physical discomfort, cramping, the issuing of blood and water, overwhelming pain, and relentless fatigue. That was your beginning, and now with time, maturity, and understanding, you came to see that her hugs, kisses, and snuggles, may have reassured us, but it was in the sacrifices that she laboured on your behalf that her true love lived and grew.
We emulate what we experience, and when we couple our behaviors with an understanding what they mean, we begin to thrive. Her love for us taught us to love others. Love is what is most important, and is the true measure of greatness in an individual.
Are Mothers perfect? Of course not. But I believe that the concept of Motherhood is perfect, and that all mothers who struggle to do their best in delivering hugs, kisses, snuggles, wiping dirty faces, driving to and experiencing recitals, games and doctors appointments, and issuing forth blood sweat and tears, makes the world much better place than it otherwise would be, and a simple one day a year commemoration celebrating Motherhood seems completely inadequate in comparison to their accomplishments and sacrifice.
Thank You ...Mother.
Thank You... Wife.
Thank You... Mother of Our Children.