Appreciating Motherhood and Womanhood

Yesterday was one of those magical days. Where when I woke up I could feel the magic in the air. I could smell it and I felt like I could touch it.

I woke up with a wonderful feeling of positive energy and purpose knowing it was Mother’s Day. My family was all excited about Mother’s Day and they did their best to make the day as restful and peaceful as they could for me. My husband and children presented me with lovely flowers and cards and let me have the day to myself.

In the morning and early afternoon, I sat out in the sun reading a magazine, doing a crossword puzzle, basking in the beautiful day. Feeling the heat of the sun penetrating my body making every cell in my body feel alive again.

I looked up at the clouds sweeping by in the sky. Some looking like angels.  I inhaled and exhaled. And I gave a silent thank you to the Universe for the abundance I have in my life. For giving me the gift of Motherhood. The gift of learning so much more about myself through the eyes of a mother. Facing the challenges of raising children knowing I don’t have all the answers. Praying that I get it right so I can send my children out into the world as givers rather than as takers. As caring people who have compassion and empathy for their fellow mankind.

Then later that afternoon, I got dressed to go with the women in my family to Tom Moore’s Tavern for lunch. To freely celebrate Motherhood and Womanhood. Recognising that they are one in the same for the majority of us. When we were seated, I looked around the table at the other eight women. Stole glimpses in their eyes. Wondering what stories they were carrying with them. Wondering if motherhood sometimes scared them as much as it does me from time to time. Wondering if they worried about whether they would be around to see their children’s lives unfold. As I do every day considering my mother suddenly died when I was so young. And so was she.

I could see none of that worry in their faces because everyone was relaxed because it was Mother’s Day. The conversations were shifting from one topic to the other. As each woman was trying to have her story be heard in the limited amount of time we had. It was lovely to see the different generations of women – mothers and daughters – sharing the same space. Mothers who had birthed their daughters interacting with those daughters who had birthed themselves.

We talked like there was no separation in generations because once we become mothers a new understanding of motherhood and womanhood develops. Those of us who may have judged our mothers understand that motherhood is not something anyone can teach us. It is learned. Every single second, minute, hour of every single day. We understand there is nothing that can prepare us for motherhood except the experience of it itself.

Each one of us approaches motherhood with the tools we have learned through our life experiences and hence it is constantly evolving as are we. I loved yesterday because none of us stood in judgement of the other. We just were. Appreciating each other for who we are.

I looked around the table and thought of the matron that is left of my mother’s family. Sitting to my left. My mother’s only sister and only surviving member of my mother’s immediate family. Sometimes I feel twinges of jealousy toward her because she knew my mother for much longer than I did. But it also pulls me closer to her because I know when I need it she can speak my mother’s name with love and understanding.

Looking at her lined face now. Feeling a sadness wash over me knowing my mother’s face never had the time to develop the lines of time because she was only 44 when she died.  Looking at my aunt and thinking of all she has seen. Thinking of all she has learned. Turning to my right to look at my oldest sister who stepped in for a few years after my mother died to guide me, help me. The one who I used to think knew it all. The one who I often fought with because she was not my mother and I wished she would stop trying. Appreciating her for what she gave me.

I look around the table again with different eyes then. Appreciating the fact the my sister, just like my Aunt, and my cousins, the other women seated at the table, the other women seated at the other tables in the restaurant  are just like me. We are all doing the best we can with the resources we have. Mothering as only we know how.