Today is a bittersweet day, emphasis on the sweet. It's the day where we make an extra effort to honor the mothers in our life. Today I remember my mother. She was a caretaker and a giver. Her life was full of struggles that were rarely voiced and she never sought pity, attention or even understanding. She moved through life asking for very little, and giving way more than she ever had to give. She was intelligent and quirky and sometimes infuriating, and I found out too late that she was strong, so strong, and she gave me the greatest gift in her passing--she showed me my own strength. I honor her, I value her and I miss her...everyday. Happy Mother's Day to my mom, Jean Marie Kantola Saunders. I love you.
Today I am the mother to a 13 year old and a 9 year old. I have the most daunting and gratifying task of helping 2 young ladies navigate through life with as little scarring as possible, to help lead them towards success, fulfillment and happiness. To gently nudge them in the right direction while trying hard to trust the paths they choose. Sometimes nudge them slightly harder than gently, while careful not to break their spirits or rob them of their originality. I get to be a cheerleader, an advocate and a supporter while encouraging them to be those things even BIGGER for themselves. To allow them to feel and to move on through gut-wrenching heartache so their blessings can feel that much greater. To lead them away from measuring success in "things" and to show them the value in everyday kindness. To show them that winning isn't in being THE best, it's in being THEIR best, and that is ALWAYS enough. Anyway-these are the things I aspire to do and to be. When my children do good, which is frequent, I can slowly measure my success as their mother. Really though, all I can do is hope, hope that all of the good choices I make will someday outweigh the mistakes I make (which piled on top of each other, feel like Everest) I can be the most loved and the most loathed person in their universe in the same 10 minute window, loving them through the loathing, that's my job. It's rough. Being their mother- it's both terrifying and an extreme honor, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.
My mother didn't seek understanding, she was far less selfish than I am. Today, I hope she knows that I finally understand her, I finally GET how hard it was to be my mother ;) It's not just making sandwiches and doling out the punishments. Mothers are women who are molded by personal struggles, who are imperfect, flawed and often scarred HUMANS who are given only one chance per child to grow a well adjusted adult. How on earth can we expect perfection, from our mothers or from ourselves? It may have taken a long time for me to understand her, but now that I do- a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Someday, my kids might just understand me. Understand that my ferocity is molded by my intense desire to get this right, to do right by them, by fear and by hope, a whole lot of hope!
My mother didn't seek understanding, she was far less selfish than I am. Today, I hope she knows that I finally understand her, I finally GET how hard it was to be my mother ;) It's not just making sandwiches and doling out the punishments. Mothers are women who are molded by personal struggles, who are imperfect, flawed and often scarred HUMANS who are given only one chance per child to grow a well adjusted adult. How on earth can we expect perfection, from our mothers or from ourselves? It may have taken a long time for me to understand her, but now that I do- a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Someday, my kids might just understand me. Understand that my ferocity is molded by my intense desire to get this right, to do right by them, by fear and by hope, a whole lot of hope!
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