Crying on Mother’s Day. Again. But these tears are different from past years.
This year I allowed the sweet unconditional love of my children to actually fill my heart. I opened each handmade card with shaking hands full of joy and wonder that these amazing little people are part of me, and that we’re helping each other journey through life. I have become so much more because of them, for them, and for myself. With them, I have found Me.
I can see the Mommy they love now. I never believed their loving statements or bear hugs. I always held a bit back and rationalized that they HAD to love me, not that they actually did. That I didn’t deserve the love, that I was not a perfect mommy or even a good mommy. I used to think I had failed them in so many unforgivable ways.
My 4 year old hammered it home to me. After pancakes, after all their sweet gifts of paper flowers, crayon colored hearts, and statements of love – my 4 year old comes over and says to me, “Mommy? Can I give you just one more hug, because the love is the best part of this day.” He knows to ask before hugging me, he knows I don’t always want to be touched. Such a wise little boy. So I pulled him up into a huge tight hug and we just stayed there, wrapped in the safety, the warmth, the pure beauty of love between Mom and child. It was only a moment, but those moments last our lifetime. I know this now. I know that is what I was missing from my own childhood.
They are so precious. I hope they know that. I hope they feel it in their bones and never doubt they are loved, or their importance to me and this world. Because really, even if that is all I manage to teach them, I will be satisfied that I have done my most important job.