Mixed emotions on Mother's Day

"Knock Out" Rosebush, a Mother's Day gift from my husband, 
sits in the studio waiting for frost warnings to melt away.

For many years now, Mother's Day has brought mixed feelings. My mom passed away when I was 26 - that was a long time ago. I would have like to have had her around longer, would like for her to have been there for my wedding and when I raised a family. I was scared to death of making a mistake, doing things wrong, and it would have been good to hear an encouraging word from her.  She loved kids and would have enjoyed being a grandmother. But God had other plans, and His plans are always for the best, even when we don't understand them.  Mom had a firm, sometimes even fierce faith in God, and she would never have argued with Him about anything.  And we all know that Heaven is better than earth.

I inherited a love of children from my mother, and always planned, or at least hoped, to have a large family. But God had other ideas about that, also.  A few years after Mom died, He brought a young widower with two little boys into my life.  I loved them as if they were my own, even though there were plenty of people on all sides reminding me that they were not, and that it wasn't really "the same."  But I plugged on, and though my mother was no longer with me, God had given me a best friend, named Shary who I could always depend on for moral support.  I hadn't been married long, when we went out for lunch together and she asked me how I was doing.  I chatted on and on about the kids, their activities, the house, Larry's work, and she said, "Della, how are you?"  It made me tear up then, as it does now. She never let me forget that, yes, I was a wife, a mother, a housekeeper, but I was also still her friend, a person, an individual. She once told me that I should stop thinking of myself as a second string replacement, a substitute for someone else, but to always remember that I am the one and only "me" and I wasn't a second-best anything. Thank you, Shary, for being there. Best friends are a wonderful gift from God.

So, the question is who is the real mother - is it the person who carried the children for nine months and spent hours in labor bringing them into the world, or the one who spent years feeding them, doing mountains of laundry and cleaning, spending sleepless nights worrying and  praying, praying, praying that someday when they went out into the world, they would be safe and happy, and that the world would become a better place because of them?  The answer can only be BOTH of them. It takes all those things, and more to make a "real" mother. And for some reason, God in His wisdom decided that my boys needed two different women to share this responsibility, instead of just one. It was His decision.  Twice as much love, two times the prayers. And, like my mom, I don't have the audacity to argue with God about anything.

The beautiful rose bush pictured above is a gift from my wonderful husband, who never stops reminding me that I am the mother of his children.  A husband is a wonderful gift from God.! So, despite the sadness, I am blessed