So… it’s Mother’s Day. Or it will be tomorrow. I’m kind of on a deadline here as far as getting this post done in time, so I realize I’m probably sacrificing a lot of depth. Ah well. As I sit here, writing to try and get my thoughts flowing, I’m reaching for a structured spontaneity, which is quite possibly an oxymoron, depending on how you leap about.
For this post, it’s kind of more a tribute sort of thing, to be made annual, because that’s kind of the deal with such days. The year comes and goes and suddenly, hey, whaddya know, it has been your regularly scheduled trip around the sun, welcome back to the same date, a year later though, obviously. Unless you’re a time traveler, in which case, I am sorry, so so sorry. Get out of that time loop, mate, and live a little.
Anyway, moving past that little sidebar, the thing we have to remember of course is that our parents, both mother and father, are always around, no matter the day. So I shan’t begrudge one day (which honestly seems a little too little for celebrating such a big part of my life) to them, right mates? Let’s actually kick this off with talking about both of the greatest mothers in my life. The first is Mary, Mother of God, our mother; the second, my own mother, or, as we call her, “Mom”. Heh, couldn’t resist.
Firstly, Mary. When I think of Mary, the first thing that usually comes to mind is this very calming gaze, that sort of cuts one to the heart. The eyes have it, an understanding of my pains and struggles, they see it, and yet they love despite it all. The second thing is a warm embrace, burying my face in the folds of blue, a powerful ocean sweeping me into a greater reality. A reality that I am loved, that I have… family. Ad Jesum Per Mariam. That’s the thing that drives me onward. That truth that Christ can be reached through His own Mother, my mother.
I have a sort of… odd thing I do. Whenever I see a statue of Mary, I think of her, and I wave rather vigorously. I like to believe that I speak with her rather often, and that she’s amused by my childlike antics. Whenever I pass the statue at my church(es), the various artworks I see on occasion, and especially The Steps, Immaculata. Every time we pass by on the bridge between Ohio and Kentucky, I’ll stare across the way, saying a simple “Hello, Mary!” in greeting. My tradition, my own way of showing I’m thankful for her presence in my life. Because I’ve had a lot of trying times in which I felt isolated, but in asking for her intercession, I found some new resolve to strive onward, to never give up, to never give in. She is an inspiring figure, and I am honored to be under her protection.
In the same vein, my earthly mother offers a different protection. Many the days where I came to her simply to talk and discuss the various areas in my life where troubles had arisen. Everyone needs a confidante, and she’s one of my main go-tos. Why go to my mother? Well, as a commuting college kid, I have time at home outside of school. I get to know my family a bit better, planted as I am. Might sound awful, but it really helps to have that kind of separation sometimes. Two worlds divided, the school and the home. I didn’t write this to talk about school though, I wanted to… shed some light on my mother’s wonderful awesomeness.
She’s an early riser, not by choice, but because she prepares us men of the house food for both breakfast and packed lunch, and makes sure we’ve got enough to survive before heading back to sleep. Her prayer life is inspiring, because she really dedicates herself to the Liturgy of the Hours on a daily basis, in between the madness that is keeping the house in order and the rest of the family happy. As my father says, “Happy wife, happy life.” Really, it’s her who is often holding us all together. When we all have our issues, she’s always the one calling us back to prayer, back to God.
I rarely appreciate it in my darker moods, but I need to hear that. I need to hear that there is a better way than the one I’ve chosen. Someone to hold me to the mark, and yet support me in those times where I am wrestling. That’s why she’s my confidante. She shares her wisdom, doesn’t mind too much when I go on a bunch of threads related to girls in my life, and just all around always seems to have the right words to say to me, to get my head back in the game.
So of course my power comes from both of them. It’s not a weakness to be close to one’s mother, it’s probably one of your greatest assets. Through turmoil and triumph, through love and loss, through the violence unto victory, my mother gives me and all the rest of my family strength. And so today, in light of all our mothers do, say at least a quick thank you, give them a hug, give them chocolates or something, I dunno. It’s a chance to show our appreciation for their part in our lives.
P.S. Apologies for this not really having my usual head and heart in it, but it’s been a busy weekend 😛