I remember an incident that happened during my first year working here, where I was walking down the hall with a resident, discussing some mutual garden interests. As we rounded the corner to the corridor where her apartment was, a man intercepted us and gruffly told her, “You’re late!” She ignored what he said, and instead introduced him to me as her son, using a nickname that, based on the cold, stern way he corrected it, nobody but his mother had dared to use since he was a child. I knew enough to walk away at that point, but as I did I heard him give her a nasally, three-syllable, “Mom!” that only the best adolescents could rival.
He was probably 40 years older than I was. Prior to meeting him, his mother had been talking to me, if not as her equal, then at least as an adult who had something valuable to say. It struck me then, and has remained with me since: Mothers remain mothers, and sons remain sons, no matter how old they get.
My wife and I have been blessed in the last month with the arrival of our second daughter, Meredith, and have also recently celebrated the fourth birthday of our daughter Ella. I find myself frequently getting lost in thoughts and emotions about how Ella could have grown so big so fast, and yet still be so young and small. It makes me wonder how my mother sees me. Does she see an adult, her child, a father, a professional, her grocery store buddy, a stranger, a friend, or something else? And who is she? Is she my mother, my grandparent’s baby girl, my counselor, a closet artist and musician, a green thumb, my calculus tutor, the woman my father fell in love with, a hospice volunteer, my daughter’s best friend, or a retired professional?
I think the truth is that when we see each other, we see a complex, changing mix of old memories with new experiences. When I was born, I only had one identity and simple needs. Among all of the other competing interests, identities, and needs, my mother chose to prioritize me as I became my own person with as many diverse characteristics as her own. I don’t think I’m qualified to define what the role of motherhood is or should be, but from my perspective, I think the ability to make a lifelong investment in the potential of another human being is one of the greatest acts of love and sacrifice a person can make. I am grateful and in awe of those who have done it, and continue to do it.
Happy Mother’s Day