Tomorrow is Mothers day here in the US. For many that means calling their mom, for others that means a day of being pampered.But what about those who express "mom-like" qualities and are never acknowledged for it simply because they have not given birth? What about the single male parents raising children alone? What about the grandmothers, aunts, cousins, brothers, sisters, or friends raising children or even taking care of someone, simply because they choose to?
But what is a mother?
To me, my mom is my best friend, confidante, comfortor and my champion. She doesn't always know what to say, but she knows her presence is sometimes enough. She knows how to cook anything and complements me even when I don't. She knows how to mend a broken heart and when to toss the garbage to the curb. She knows when to make me laugh and when to let me cry. She knows when to let me fall, and how to help me stand on my own two feet. Often taken for granted, others don't often see her determination and strength. They will never see her frailty and fear. She is my mom for however long I am blessed to have her. Thank you for being my mom.
I found this and wanted to add it here. If anyone knows of the author, please post.
What Is A Mother ?
When the good Lord was creating mothers, he was into his sixth day of overtime when the angel appeared and said, "You are doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."
And the Lord said, "Have you read the specs on this order ?"
"She has to be completely washable, not plastic, have moveable parts, all replaceable, run on black coffee and leftovers, have a lap that disappears when she stands up, a kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair, and six pairs of hands."
The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands, no way !"
"It's not the hands that cause the problems, said the Lord. It is the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have."
"That's the standard model," the angel asked?
The Lord nodded. "One pair that sees through closed doors, when she asks, "What are you kids doing in there, " when she already knows. Another in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn't but what she has to know, and of course the ones here in the front so that she can look at a child when he goofs and says, "I understand and I love you," without so much as uttering a word.
"Lord," said the angel, tugging his sleeve gently, "Come to bed .."
"I can't," said the Lord. "I am so close to creating something so close to myself. Already, I have one who heals herself when she is sick, can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger and can get a nine year old to stand under a shower."
The angel circled the model of a mother. "It's too soft," she sighed.
"But tough," said the Lord excitedly. "You cannot imagine what this mother can do or endure !"
"Can it think ?"
"Not only can she think, but it can reason and compromise," said the Creator.
Finally the angel bent over and ran her fingers across the cheek. "There's a leak," she pronounced. "I told you that you were trying to put too much into this model."
"It's not a leak," said the Lord. "It is a tear."
"What's it for ?"
"It's for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness, and pride."
"You are a genius," said the angel.
The Lord looked somber. "I didn't put it there," he said.
