Sabbath #60

Mother’s Day. My mother died in 1994, terrible death. Sudden. Fast. We were not prepared to lose her and nothing in the family has been the same because my father was revealed. Not that she had actually lied but she had definitely compensated , taken the heat for him. I remember the year I found a card on Father’s Day for a Mother, giving credit to her for the relationship with the father. I bought it and sent it. I remember my mother’s response, thanking me deeply for knowing. Her protection, of course didn’t save us from anything. But perhaps it did save her spirit. And on the other hand she didn’t like him showing me any special attention. Maybe that was protecting me too, although at the time it felt like jealousy.  And perhaps she was jealous of attention that rarely came her way in a form she needed it. And now this moment my father is dying, this his last spring. No more gardens. No more imparting wisdom that may or not be true. I am no longer angry with him. He gave me life and asked for forgiveness the last time I saw him. Easy to forgive because of loving. His sincerity and fear in dying. Easy. He is an old man.

My children lost their father last year. Another sudden death. And his relationships even more damaged. He didn’t have time to ask for forgiveness. He didn’t know how. Or even saw the need. I did my best for as long as I could in defense of my own hope. Until I had none.

So today I’m celebrating Mother’s Day by honoring all the women in my life whether they have given birth or not. Certainly my daughter is mother to me. Her partner, mother to the animals. My son’s wife, mother of three, my husband’s mother and sister. My brother’s wives,their daughters. My women friends, all mother to someone or some thing. All good women. All invested in loving their families and the world deeply. Each smart and beautiful, handsome.