A Mother’s Reflections
Every year in the beautiful month of May, we take time to celebrate our mothers. Motherhood is an interesting topic because it can be considered from three very distinct perspectives: as a child views his or her mother, as a mother herself, and as a grandmother.
I was born in 1960 to an Irish Catholic family and was the seventh of ten children. My favorite childhood memories were of my summer vacations. We lived in a very modest neighborhood, and while the incomes of each family varied, my family, simply put, was poor. We lived well below the poverty line, but I was completely oblivious to that little fact. For me, summer vacation was never a trip to the beach or to the mountains or to a new city—it was a time of open windows, screen doors slamming, and neighborhood kids running from house to house, taking shortcuts through each others’ yards. While we were free to run the neighborhood, we were always aware that the moms on our block were watching us. Those moms, I was convinced, had eyes in the back of their heads because we kids didn’t get away with anything. My memories are happy ones, and in large part because of that group of women we kids called mom.
I loved going into a neighbor’s house. No two homes were the same because no two moms were the same. Each mom had her own way of making her house a home. And she did it without Pinterest, HomeGoods, or Walmart. Although our moms were of modest means, they created welcoming homes that were safe havens for their children and their children’s friends. Those homes were filled with love that was palpable. Most impressive is the memory that each family on that block kept Sunday a holy day. Whether the family walked to the church at the end of the block, jumped into cars to drive across town, or gathered together around the dinner table for a special Sunday meal, each family recognized Sunday as The Lord’s Day. I knew even as a small child that Sunday was a day unlike the rest of the week. And I consider that a great blessing in my life—an example I wanted to set for my own family one day.
The moms on my block never received any achievement awards or particular accolades. But to me they were everything. They were who I aspired to be, and in time I, too, became a mom. Being “mom” came rather instinctively, but surprisingly enough, it taught me a great deal about my own mother. When I held my first child in my arms, I realized for the first time just how much my mom loved me. On those days when my children had challenged me in every way humanly possible, I realized just how patient my own mother was. When I opened bills, I understood just how sacrificial her love was, and when I kneeled beside a child’s bed to pray, I understood just how strong her faith was. My mother taught me that being a mom wasn’t a career choice, but rather a response to God’s call to go forth and multiply. It was a response, which requires from every mother a submission to God’s will. And I am thankful to my mother for all that she taught me.
Time has moved along swiftly, and I now have six grandchildren. I marvel at how my children care for my grandchildren. I watch how my daughters and daughter-in-law tenderly care for each one of their children. I see the unending work and worry and joy and laughter of these young mothers. I see the sacrificial nature of all they do for their children. And as I see the beauty of their vocation unfold, I hope that in some small way it is a reflection of what I was able to give to them. I also hope that in time, these young moms will enjoy the fruits of their labor as well, as they one day watch their children raise children of their own. Entering this third phase of motherhood has been profoundly rewarding. It has been an immeasurable blessing and an opportunity to reflect on how my perspective of motherhood has developed since my childhood, always strengthening my belief in the beauty and love of a mother.
I believe it is best said in the poem written by Joseph Cardinal Mindszenty: “What on God’s good earth is more glorious than this: to be a mother?”
Meet Felicity Buckley
Felicity Buckley, married thirty-four years is the mother of eight children with six grandchildren. She holds a degree in Physical Therapy, served her community as an elected official—three years as alderman, and eight years as mayor, and has currently launched The Coffee Clutch (The Preeminent Force for Change) on YouTube. At The Coffee Clutch, you can enjoy videos discussing the conventional wisdom found in old sayings, idioms, and proverbs, and see how they still apply to our lives.
2 Comments
Priscilla M.
I love to hear about the old neighborhoods. I can hear the doors slam, the bell ring the kids in, the kids call out for each other; I remember the ordinary friendliness of all the moms and dads.
The moms made our ordinary days into very good memories. What was ‘ordinary’ and orderly really was very good. Thanks for reminding me!
Buckley M
Beautifully written!