Love.....

I wrote the following essay for a contest a couple years ago....I think I may have posted it before...but it was on love and it then turned into an essay on my mother. So here it is again as my Mother's Day tribute.............. Love in Complexity August, 1960 I lie in my parent’s bed and listen to my mother’s heart shatter. Dawn breaks over a hot Texas summer day. The bedroom is comfortable although in a few hours the swamp cooler will not be able to keep up with the unrelenting heat. My dad is dead. It has been a tough two years. Cancer is a terrible enemy. As I bury my head in the covers, I hear my mom’s words to her sisters. “If it wasn’t for the kids, I wouldn’t want to live.” How can this be I wonder? How can anyone not want to live? My 9 year old brain feels a burden that I can’t understand. What must I do to keep my mother wanting to live? December, 1983 I look into the blackest eyes I have ever seen and can’t believe the miracle I hold in my arms. The very being of our first child makes my heart swell. How have I lived this long and never known a love like this existed? My mother’s words slowly seep into me. They fill me with ancient wisdom. I can’t wait to present this miracle to my mom. Look what we did Mom! Here is a part of you and Daddy. Wouldn’t he be proud? Has it been worth the years of sacrifice you’ve had? Every ballgame, every play, every late night, and every disappointment we’ve thrown your way? I think yes! No, I know yes! November, 1985 Another set of black eyes gazes into mine. She is here! What a beauty. Our daughter…. our second miracle. My heart easily unfolds, blossoms, trembles with excitement. It is all consuming and yes, again, I remember those words my mother spoke so long ago. I understand, Mom; I understand times two! There is nothing like the expansion of a mother’s heart. There is always room for one more. No burden can ever be so light; no trouble can ever be too deep. April, 1996 My mother lies dying. Her breathing is uneven and ever so fragile. My brother, sister-in law, and I stand at her bedside. She has never remarried, never asked anyone else into our small family. I hear her words… “If it weren’t for the kids…..” Have we given you enough joy Mom? Have we made you proud? She has lived for us and through her I understand and embrace that love. I have been no burden all these years. My brother and I are her very existence. What joy! My mother asked many things of me over my 45 years of life. Some I gave her, some I denied her out of rebellion, selfishness or merely the zest of living my life. One thing she asked I delivered on that day in April. Will you be with me when I die? Yes!! I did it. The day of sorrow was also full of happiness. That one thing I accomplished. I can remember thinking many thoughts as I drove back to my home from her death bed. One thought remains with me forever. This is one of the three best days of my life. I did what my mom asked of me. I stood there and held her hand as she passed from this life to the next. Second only to the birth of our two children, it was absolutely the most awe inspiring fete of my life. I gave back just a minute portion of all the years of sacrifice she gave me. Understanding love doesn’t happen in a moment, in a day, a month nor a year. Love defines itself sometimes in spurts, sometimes slowly over time. It is a picture that develops in one’s heart, one’s soul, one’s very existence. Love roots in the soil of life and withstands the storms, opens to the sunny days and leafs out in miraculous ways. And then as most of God’s miracles, it becomes such a part of you that you don’t understand it, you merely live it. Is it trite to say a mother’s love is one of the strongest bond there ever was, is, or will be? Of course it is; the phrase has been repeated over and over. It’s not original to me or to you or to anyone. But it is God’s truth written on a mother’s heart. It is carved ever so deeply, yet ever so gently. How wonderful that it is trite, how wonderful that it has been recognized forever. Ask any father, son, mother or daughter to define love. How can you define soul consumption? How can you define heart to heart connection? The answers are infinitesimal. When did I understand the meaning of love? I don’t know if I understand it to this day. It is as ethereal as the gossamer wings of angels. It is as monumental as Mt. Everest or as grandiose as the Mississippi. It is staggering in its enormity. It is a gift. It is God. My mother left a legacy to her children that I pray I pass on to mine and then to the future generations of this family. It is the circle of life. It is eternity. I have a quote written in huge letters along the furr down of my cabinetry in the kitchen. “A child was asked where is your home. The child replied my home is where my mother is.” I hope that is the answer that lives in my children.