A Dad’s Simple Salute to the Mothers in His Life; written by J. Kevin Morris.
Everyone who lives on this Earth right now has a mother. Everyone who’s ever lived on this Earth has had a mother. Go ahead. Refute that, if you can. But you can’t. Every human being under the sun has a mother. There’s one way to get into mortal circulation, and motherhood’s the way.
Okay, so maybe there are two exceptions, but that was a very long time ago. And to even bring it up is simply picking nits, because otherwise, Mother’s Day is a celebration that applies to everyone, everywhere. Regardless. And Mother’s Day isn’t reserved for one’s own mother. There’s your grandmother to be acknowledged, your mother’s mother; and your wife, your children’s mother; and your daughter or daughter-in-law, your grandchildren’s mother.
It seems to just go on and on. But what could possibly be more appropriate than celebrating motherhood, from all its kinship perspectives? Nothing, that’s what. I have a mother. Couldn’t have had a better one. She’s simply the only woman who had what it took to raise me and not fall apart at the seams while she did it, even if the falling-apart-at-the-seams scenario was at times one temper tantrum away.
My mother has a mother. I loved her dearly, when she was here with us. Though departed, I still love and admire her and think tenderly of her, often. (I haven’t forgotten about my father’s mother, whom I also love and admire and think of tenderly, often.) I have a wife, the mother of my children. The best wife and mother I could ever hope for. Together, we’ve shared the lives of three children. Terrific children. Better children than I ever had a right to expect. And it’s all their mother’s doing.
I have a daughter and two daughters-in-law. They’ve brought into this world nine children–children I’m proud to call my grandchildren. Kidlets just don’t come any better. I’m surrounded by mothers, it seems, and I wouldn’t have it any other way and when I think of what a woman must give of herself, from the day a child is born and on through every minute of life after that, I’m simply astonished that anyone is capable of being a mother.
But oh! how glad I am that someone is.
J. Kevin Morris is the author of Daddy’s Diary. Order a copy here.