An Early Mother's Day Message

Sometimes I just want my mom. Which is totally ironic, because the thing I want my mom for most, is comfort. And I wouldn't necessarily categorize my mom in the "gentle, nurturing, and comforting" category. Matter of fact, if someone was to play my mom in a movie of her (or mine, for that matter) life, it would be a cross between Roseanne Barr and Susan Sarandon. Susan Sarandon pulls off the vodka swilling, pill popping, devil may care, worldly sophistication like no one else can, and Roseanne, well, let's just say it's a given, DUR. Sidenote: My mom will probably read this, and be royally pissed off at me for two months, but whatever mom, I'm a big girl, I do what I want, and I'm not saying anything that's not true so get over yourself and move on. BTW - I love you just way you are.

My point is this: Sometimes I just want to be comforted, in that head in the lap, hair stroked, don't worry baby, it's gonna be okay kinda way that we associate only with our mom's. But because my mom is neither that kinda gal, and because she lives thousands of miles away, it just never happens and I am left feeling sadly hollow. This is never something that really occured for me growing up either, so where I got this picture of motherly comfort from is beyond me. But as an adult, I have not outgrown the need to just be comforted in a kind and gentle, reassuring way sometimes.

I say that I have no idea where this need for comfort has come from, and in all honesty, I know that's not true. I think we all have this need deep down inside somewhere. Even the strongest, toughest, most independant, motorcycle riding burly guys love their moms and have the tats to prove it. As human beings, we are fragile, emotionally and physically, and the need for comfort is a way of hearing that our inherent fragility is well, ok. Whether that's from our mom's, or just in general, comfort and reassurance is something that at one time or another we all have needed, whether we can identify it or not.

In a way, it's awe inspiring to think of our own fragility. We are not tough creatures, invincible, all powerful and godlike. And though we are made in the image of God and do, to some limited extent, have strength, we are still just fragile, vulnerable creation. As Shakespeare's character Shylock asked in the Merchant of Venice "If you prick us, do we not bleed?If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us,do we not die?" Yeah, we're kinda weak like that. And that's something I'm okay with. Just as I enjoy being a woman, for all the reasons that I'm not a man (softer skin, softer hair, the ability to bear children, emotional acuity, breasts), I enjoy being weak for all the reasons that I'm not strong. I like to know that I need a Savior, someone who died for me, because I could never do this life on my own. Someone that will take care of me, protect me, love me, nurture me, be my Guardian, my Hero. I am okay with being weak, because in it, I can receive comfort, both earthly, and from the only One who can truly offer it perfectly and wholly - my wonderful Father God - and that feels really, really good.

Anyways, lately, as I'm going through this life in such raw state of emotional fragility and open, apparent vulnerability, the thing I'm craving most is just to lay my head in my mom's lap, have her rub my hair and coo that she loves me and it's going to be ok. It may be only partially true, but I just want to hear it. I'm without a home, without a job, without a plan, and right now, without my mom. It kinda hurts sometimes. So what I want to say is this - Wherever you are out there mom, know that for all your faults, your occasional lack of sensitivity, the way you never listen to me on the phone and your general quirkiness, I really do love you, and am glad that you're my mom. I wouldn't trade you for any other model. You've helped shape me into the resilient, sarcastic, tough as nails fighter that I am, and for that I'm grateful. You've also shown me the importance of being a comforter, being someone who offers reassurance and sensitivity to others. You've watched football with me, taught me how to cook, made me laugh, definitely made me cry, and most of all, made me really proud to be your daughter.

Happy Mother's Day Cathie. I love you. Now get back to your nap.