You Are a Good Mom

When I was a teenager, I hurt my mother's feelings. We were talking about what I wanted to do when I grew up, and the first thing out of my mouth was that I didn't want to be just a mom. My mom stopped talking, took a breath, and left the conversation.

I was mad. Not mad at my mom, but mad at the culture I grew up in where it says that the only way a woman is of value is if she is a wife and mother. I did not mean that what my mom did was unimportant. I didn't believe that. I just wanted to be of value.

I grew up. I got a Bachelors in English and a Masters of Business Administration in Marketing.  The only reason I chose an MBA instead of the degree I really wanted to get, a Masters in Psychology to be a school counselor, was because I had to get the same degree the men who were of "value" had. I wanted to walk into a room full of men from my culture and have the degree that they perceived held value. I didn't want a "woman" degree. I wanted to be of value.

Then, I became a mom. My life changed. I didn't care about degrees and career paths, I only cared about my babies. I finally understood my mother. I finally understood fully her infinite value.

Just a month after my dad passed away, my mom came to visit me in Florida. We had spent the week in the fun frenzy that only a collective group of a 1-year old, a 3-year old, and a Special Needs sister could incite. It was an exhausting sort of fun. We were taking a drive, the chaos in the backseat was being politely ignored as my mom and I simply enjoyed the drive and each other. It was then my mom turned to me and told me something I will never forget.

"You are a good mom. You don't spend your time with your children worrying about the things most moms worry about. You just enjoy them." Tears sprang to my eyes, and I replied in a warbled voice, "It's all I want to be good at--being a mother". My mom hugged me and we drove the rest of the way home in silence.

I took that conversation as a sign that my mom had forgiven my youthful, condescending insult. I saw her worth, and it held more value to me than anything earthly.

At times, I try to downplay what her loss means to me. I am not yet ready to feel fully the weight of her passing. I am quite afraid it will crush me. But, when that moment comes of full acceptance, I will at least know the full value of what she is. A righteous mother who didn't worry about the things most moms worried about. She just enjoyed us.