Mother's Day 2005

I've never understood birthdays.
That special day should be for the mother.
The one who worked so hard
To bring you into the world.

But then, we must celebrate,
Celebrate your time passing.
It goes too fast.

From infant, to child, to adolescent,
To almost-formed adult, but still a child.
Who sometimes needs a story and tucking in at night.
Needs the monsters and the nightmares banished from the room.
Needs the covers pulled up tight, and
A mother's loving hug to keep the bad at bay.
Needs reassurance that when all seems dark,
That the light is still there – it's just hidden
Behind a passing cloud.

I'd be there.

I'd be there, if it wasn't an impossible dream.
For all the motherless, the lost,
And the alienated children.
For the abused and helpless children.
They didn't ask to be born.
But they all cry out for love.
How can they live without the joy
Of knowing that they're always valued,
Wanted, cherished, even if it doesn't show at times?
That was my life. It never showed.
I don't want it to be theirs.

So, I'm there for you my child.
Whether you love me, hate me,
Or are merely indifferent.
The thread that binds us can never be broken.
Like the umbilicus – it gives life.

My love gives life and strength to you.
Don't ever squander it.
It's too precious.
You are too precious.

Being a mother is painful.
It makes the heart hurt.
Worse than a lover could inflict.
A dull ache that no medicine can cure.
But I'd rather that, than never knowing
The feeling of that love, freely given,
That only we can know.

You'll know one day.

Until then … be good, be strong,
Be truthful, be honest,
Be proud, be kind … you've done your best.
You always do.
That's what a good mother says.
I say it to you now, today.
With love.