A Mother's Reflection, by Wendy DeRaud

Happy Mother's Day to every woman out there who misses their mom, misses being a mom, misses their lost child, misses their kids being little, along with those out there who are surrounded by their loving children.

Motherhood has carved an indelible place in my heart and anyone who is a mother understands the pulling in ones inner core, the place from which tears come, that is never the same after giving birth. We will always rock back and forth just like we did when we soothed a crying baby in our arms, and want to touch their soft faces even when they are covered with whiskers. And feeding comes impulsively, left-overs in the fridge kept on hand for surprise visits.


Being a mom from the very start is learning to prepare for letting go. It never really happens though. The love is unrelenting, this mother-love, and it goes on and on. We can try to get our lives back, and we will, but our children have wedged their crazy ways into everything, and that's just how it is.

There's no such thing as Mothers Day, because the most special days with our kids are the unplanned moments driving when they ask questions and you get to tell stories about your life, cable car rides to Ghirardelli's Square for sundaes, or when they come alive after 10 pm, flopping on your bed and jabber like crazy.

So reflect we must, on our mothers and all the seasons we've gone through as mothers ourselves, yet we are wise to find the balance in appreciation of it all, and finding satisfaction and peace with where we are today, yet letting go. We hold lightly because we learn that it all has to be surrendered in the end, otherwise it is too painful to be so intricately connected to them, even as you sleep. That is the bittersweet way of mothering, and most of us wouldn't have it any other way.