Friday, March 8, 2013

A Mother's Love


Nobody loves her children the way a mother does.

When a child wins a special award, or has exciting news to share, who is their biggest cheerleader? Mom.

When a child is hurt or sad, whose heart breaks the most with them? Mom.

Who is the person who loses sleep at night, either caring for a newborn baby or waiting up past curfew? Mom.

Who knows their strengths and weaknesses and loves them unconditionally; when a child is being bratty or naughy, who loves them despite it all?? Mom.

I've been reflecting on this a lot over the past couple of days. When my 7 year old rears her unpleasant attitude, stomping up the stairs while yelling snotty remarks and slamming her bedroom door, anyone else might say she's a brat. But I am her mom. I know her ins and outs. She might be a crank sometimes, but I also know she's a spunky, bright, compassionate, and loving little girl.

When my boys are coloring the toilet seats with my favorite lipstick, pulling the toilet paper off their rolls or smashing goldfish crackers in the carpet, some might call them troublemakers. But I am mom. I know that they are curious, imaginative and full of life!

When my teenagers argue with the rules or get attitude with me because I'm not giving into their wants, some may want to give them a good backhand! But I am mom. I know that they are exerting their independence and discovering who they are. And I love them still.

Nobody is more excited, happy, disappointed, worried, concerned, hopeful or full of love for my kids than I am.

Nobody can love her children the way a mother does.

For me, that one person who loved me most is now gone. Gone is my cheerleader, my confidant, my shoulder to cry on. I try no to dwell on it too much. I try to focus on the positive and remember my mom the way she was. I am fortunate to have a small group of close friends and a couple of Aunts who are there for me to vent to, cry to and share my joys with. One Aunt, in particular, calls me every week just to see how I'm doing. When she knows I'm having a bad week, she will send me cards or even gifts. I'm lucky to have that kind of support in my life.

Still, I miss my mom, particularly when life gets rough. February was a tragic month for me and for my family in general. I won't go into details of the events of the month, but it has been one of the most emotionally trying times requiring me to witness and do some of the hardest things I've ever had to do. It's times such as these that I miss my mom the most. She would've had just the right words to say. She would have been there to hug me and comfort me and hold my hand through everything-and not just for me, but for everyone.

And so, as I work through my grief and pain and disappointments in life, I miss my mom. I don't think that ache in my heart will ever go away. But I do also count the many blessings I have. I am lucky to have an extremely supportive husband, who encourages me and loves me despite all my weaknesses. I am lucky to have one of the most awesome dads on the face of this Earth. I am lucky to have great family members and friends who are there for me, to bring me dinners in those times of tragedies, to help with my kids, to lend a listening ear when I need it, to get me out for a girl's night when I need it most and to be excited with me when something good happens. And most of all, I am lucky to be a mom and to have these beautiful children to give my unconditional love to. I realize now more than ever how much I need to be there for them, especially when they feel they have nowhere else to turn.

1 comment:

  1. Hi Cassandra. I occasionally read your blog, and for some reason have been drawn to it the last few days. My mom had primary progressive aphasia, which once upon a time was considered to be a non-dementing type. She told us by the time she turned 55 that she was going to be like her mom - there is a very long family history of dementia of varying types. Mom lived to be almost 81, and has now been gone about 8 years. I miss her a great deal. I missed her long before her heart stopped beating, and I know from reading your blog that you know what I mean. I still think, "I should call Mom about that," and then realize Mom is not there - though I think she is with me often, and I feel her presence at various times. I just want to tell you that you are doing a great job of documenting your family's journey with this horrible illness, and to tell you I feel for you. When Mom was 55, I was 24. It wasn't until I was 38 that there was "proof" that Mom was going to be like her mom after all. Some of the years were very difficult, as her behavior changed, and she also did not care for the person who stayed with her while I was at work and school. Later, as she lost her motor skills, she became also more pleasant again. I miss giving her hugs and laughing with her most of all. I know this is an extremely difficult time for you, and want you to know I am thinking about you and your family, and will keep you in my prayers. Take care. Give her a hug and a kiss whenever she will let you. And take one for yourself!

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