Happy Mother’s Day to my mother, my step-mother, and my mother-in-law. Happy Mother’s Day to my late grandmothers in Heaven – I still remember them every year. Happy Mother’s Day to my sisters, my cousins, and my friends who are all mothers. Happy Mother’s Day to all of YOU out there, moms, step-moms, mothers-in-law, aunts, godmothers, moms of furbabies, spiritual moms,  second-moms, honorary moms and dorm moms.

There’s also helicopter moms, tiger moms, dragon moms, lawnmower moms, wine moms, hot mess moms….wait a minute – this is not that kind of article. Sorry!

And then there’s me! Happy Mother’s Day to me as well.

I’ve always said, my two greatest accomplishments call me Mommy. Kira and Max are the two lights in my life and the two twinkle in my eyes. When I one day sit across the porch from God, I will thank Him for lending them to me.

This will be one for the books for us, won’t it moms? Some of us won’t be with our moms or grandmothers. We will be waving through the windows of nursing homes (like we will be in a few hours) or calling or FaceTiming. There won’t be any large brunches in our homes or in restaurants. I’d like to say, “Oh well, there’s always next year!” – but in some cases, there won’t be a next year.

My friend Christine Krause Marks wrote a lovely tribute to her mother that I would like to share with  you to end my post on this Mother’s Day.

As we prepare to honour Moms this weekend, I’ve been thinking about how much I miss mine.  She’s 85 and still with us physically, but being in a fairly advanced state of dementia, there’s not much left of the Mom I remember from my childhood, which can be hard to watch.

Sometimes I’m her sister and we relive happy moments from her childhood. Sometimes she knows I’m one of her 6 kids but she’s not sure which one, or other times I’m a vaguely familiar stranger she’s content to chatter with. Last summer during a family reunion, she walked into the kitchen at our family cottage while a bunch of us were preparing dinner for the assembled masses.  Watching the buzz of activity, she announced, “I don’t know who everyone is, but I remember I love you and you all belong to me.”  Slayed.

It’s OK.  I console myself with my memories of her in her blue apron, hair pinned up, baking endless pans of apple cake, cleaning with an intensity that was legendary, and laughing until she cried.  She always had space at the dinner table for whoever showed up. The door was always unlocked for anyone who needed a place to stay, a warm meal, a cup of coffee or a listening ear.  Her capacity to organize meals for literally hundreds of people at church events was worthy of any COO. In another era, she would have kicked butt as a corporate executive.

Now as a Mom myself, I think about how much the gift of my three beautiful babies has shaped me, matured me, rounded some of my sharper corners, and allowed me to experience wonder in a way that only kids can reveal to us.

Moms laugh with us, cry with us, celebrate our successes, mourn our losses, sacrifice for us and worry about us. Always wanting for her kids a better life than her own, a Mom’s heart beats with her kids forever. 

To those who are Moms to someone else’s kids, are trying desperately to help their partner become a Mom, have lost a Mom, yearn to be a Mom, never knew the love of their Mom, miss the Mom they once had, or are forever questioning whether they’re a good enough Mom – here’s a little extra love for those who might need it heading into the weekend.

Once again, Happy Mother’s Day!