When I was younger I had the worst migraines. They would come on so suddenly. I’d be sensitive to light, food, and scents which left me feeling nauseous. Though my younger dramatic self was convinced I needed to seek medical attention my mom was always able to patch me back together. She’d lay me down with a few saltine crackers, and turn on a funny movie for me. I’d lay there for hours until I felt better. All the while she would come check on me. She’d refill my ginger ale. Check my temperature. She’d make me feel cared for and safe. There was a time as a teenager that I slid down a gravel driveway, and scraped both of my knees. I was at a friend’s house and managed to laugh it off as blood poured down my legs. When I got home and saw my mother I crumpled in her arms. Full of emotion and pain I burst into tears. I couldn’t hide my pain from her. She sat me down, with a glass of water and bandaged my wounds.
The next day my mom took me to the doctor where they cleaned and bandaged me up. The nurse showed my mother how to wrap my knees properly, and she watched very intently. I squirmed a bit during the process but didn’t make a peep. The next day when it was time for her to clean and re-bandage my knees she made me as comfortable as possible. She propped a pillow and towel under my knees, and began the cleaning process. She did so in a very cautious manner, but goodness did I scream. She looked at me confused. “You didn’t make a sound when the nurse did it.” She said. “But you are my mom.” I thought. I can be vulnerable around you, and you will still love me. I screamed, and cried, and begged her to stop, but she knew best. When it was done, she patted me on the leg and said “Jah” like she always does when she wants me to calm down and realize something is over. The simple translation for it is essentially an abrupt “done!” I’d always feel embarrassed after I’d make such a scene. Yet I’m not sure if I ever thanked her for all she’d done for me when I grew up.
How a single mother was able to raise three sane girls is beyond me. We gave her some struggles I’m sure. Trying to keep up with the oldest, but also needing her support. Keeping the middle and the youngest from pulling hair, yelling, and clawing each other to death. She must have had the most difficult time with us. But she always kept us safe. She always made us feel beautiful. Ultimately, she tried her very best to give us everything she could.
I still marvel at the healing power mothers have. I will never understand it until I am one myself. I watch my sister-in-law Ashley with my two nephews, and how they adore her. Any little bump or scrape she can make better with a kiss, and a squeeze. To all of the young mothers out there I encourage you to fill your little ones with love, and positive words. Your words hold so much weight in your child’s heart. What you think of them is what they will think of themselves. Teach them to stand up when they fall, and learn from their mistakes. Comfort them when they are at their worst. Be patient with them when they are disobedient. You are your child’s comforter, and caretaker. Take pride in your role as their mother. Not every woman is blessed with the chance.