The Gift of Mother in Us All (and Thanking You)

As a woman without children, I have come to see that
mothering is more than genetics and adoption. Mothering is helping each other
grow and develop, to invest in someone become, in a deeper way, who they
already are, while founded in deep affection. Mothering can take place in any
relationship between women whether through family, friendship, or even between
strangers. We are more us because of
these women, because we have learned from them and perhaps we have taught them
something in return.

My mom means a
great deal to me and I am deeply grateful for her. She was there to clean out all
the rocks and bugs from my pockets, taught me how to tie my shoes and shave my
legs, understood when I needed to climb a tree, danced with me at my senior baccalaureate,
and came down for Mom’s Weekend when I was in college. As adults, we went out for a game of pool.  

This Mother’s Day, though, there are many more women in
addition to my mother whom I wish to honor. As the holiday has approached these
last few weeks, all the women in my life who, amid our wider bonds of friendship,
have played this kind of mothering role in some way, have been gathering together
in my mind – a vast array of love across my thirty-five years of life. These women have
each in their unique way been a model of womanhood, of love, of wisdom, and never-ending
grace. And they have invested in me, oh, so deeply. Huge swaths of who I am are
there, colored wide on the canvas of my life, because they walked across it and
left their mark, helping birth something more me than there was before.

Though there are many more, I’m sure, who have faded in memory
or slipped my mind, I would like to take this opportunity to honor these women
who have given me this grace, whether they’ve known it or not, and who I am so
deeply grateful for (in no particular order):
  • The teacher who wanted me in her class then
    stayed to teach that subject another year so she could keep me as a student. I always
    felt her genuine affection and thrived in it.
  • The teacher who let me stay with her every day
    after school to the point where her
    mother nicknamed me her shadow. She taught me to line dance, throw a
    basketball, make sure things are straight, how to be organized, and most of
    all, she was my rock when my life was topsy-turvy and she enjoyed my company
    when I didn’t enjoy it myself.
  • The woman at church who encouraged my writing
    when I was a teenager, invited me to eat lunch with her sometimes when she
    taught at my school, and as adults, has been my loudest cheerleader in all
    things: writing, spiritual direction, and valuing my get-up-and-go.
  • The mother of a friend I’ve known for well over
    twenty years who has been there that whole time with motherly advice, hugs,
    dinner (both there and to-go), wisdom, and compassion.
  • The friend who took me on as an intern in
    college, taught me to laugh at myself, treated me to dinner week after week,
    got me to consider a nose piercing, and who still calls me “Missy.”
  • The friend I met through a job who then held me
    as I cried when I lost it, assuring me that one day I would be grateful for it
    all and who has since, been there with wisdom, an example of genuine integrity
    in her own messes and successes, and who has challenged me to think farther and
    beyond my own self.
  • The woman who gives me the grace of space to be
    utterly myself, broken and whole all at once, whose gentle hands have given me
    comfort and shared my delight.
  • The woman who has taken me in as a part of her
    family, who has opened her table and her heart to me.
  • The step-mother who listened to me as a child,
    who heard what I had to say, a huge gift to someone needing to be heard.
  • My grandmother who has always been hugely
    supportive of me and my writing, who genuinely loves my work, and who loves me.
  • My three aunts who each in their own way have
    been my friends, women to lean on, who help me understand and know my family,
    who tell me stories, and who have given me grace and love.
  • My older sister who was there with her
    protective love to clean up my skinned knees and tears and who is still the one
    I can call when I need someone who understands where I’ve come from.
  • My teacher who taught me to dare, to take
    chances, to find a part of myself I had only longed for before, and who expresses
    motherly concern whenever she feels it’s warranted.
  • A friend of my family when I was growing up who
    still honors that history and her affection by showing up, unasked, at my
    seminary graduation, theatre shows, aerial shows – whenever I have something to
    perform, she’s often there in the crowd.
  • The friend who held hope for me when I couldn’t
    hold it for myself, who talked with me about sexuality in a beautiful way, who
    taught me so much in my core, and who has been there just beyond my sight, ever
    supportive and encouraging with her whole heart.
  • The friend who has taught by example how to be
    light and love and to see farther and more deeply than I imagined, who shares
    worlds with me whenever we get a chance to talk about them.
  • The teacher who taught me boundaries, saw in me
    my leadership gift, and who still sees inside things I’m still learning to give
    space to in myself.
  • The friend who opened a world of spirituality I
    had never known existed, saw the same traditions in me, and who is there with
    wisdom and knowledge whenever I have ideas to discuss.
  • The woman who taught me the value of every
    single day of life and who knows I still need to be held sometimes.
  • The friend who taught me so much about seeing
    into people and then knew enough to let me be angry at her and others when I
    was learning it was okay to express such emotions.
  • The friend, who, when I got really sick at a
    women’s conference, made sure I had medication, a blanket, and water, and who
    then let me lay my head in her lap and stroked my hair after I threw up.

Though I’ve called these women teachers or friends, they are
still today nearly all dearly loved friends first and foremost. In fact, I
expect many of the women I’ve mentioned have never thought of themselves in
this way. But I also know these women have given me something precious that has
shaped who I am as a person even as I suspect they would each say I’ve given
something to them as well.

I am now at the stage in life where I’ve been given the gift of walking with others in various ways, of
being there for them, perhaps as an advisor, a friend, or a mentor. I dearly
love them all and it’s hard to imagine what I could be giving them in light of
all they’ve given me but I look at the friends who have played such a giving role
in my own life and am stunned at the love they hold out to me day after day. I
feel overwhelmed at the gift and can utter little more than a deeply humbled
thank you and to tell you each that I dearly love you too.

On this Mother’s Day, I want to challenge us to think further
than familial relationship. Helping each other grow and learn, being supportive
in a variety of ways, is something we can all do for each other. Who has given
you love and grace? Who has been there with encouragement and support? Do you
do this for others? Whether you have your own children or not, some of these
women do, some of them don’t, please remember this wider view of what mothering
can be and thank someone who has done this for you.

Happy Mother’s Day. 

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *