Recently, a friend told me of the nine months he spent – at age 23 – anticipating the death of his cancer-stricken mother. He told me of leaving his master’s program early and returning to his parents’ home. He cooked, cleaned, and did everything a 23 year old can think to do to keep his parents’ routine as normal as possible. He gave his parents more time together.
As I reflected on his account of those nine months, I couldn’t help but imagine who she was as a person and as a mother. He always speaks of her with such fondness that she must have been an extraordinary person. (Not all mothers can claim that title.) His return home was such a gift to her, though he insists it was nothing. But it truly is a mother's reward for raising strong, emotionally stable, and conscientious children. In what must have been some pretty dark months, she must have had some comfort in this beautiful and gratifying gesture from her son.
He was blessed to have that time with her, and she with him.
It was a profoundly touching and personal story, and I am honored that he would share it with me. Moreover, it was an unintentional gift that he told me this story on the day my own son had just returned from college.
Just hours after this conversation I heard my daughter in her brother's room, harassing him. I went and joined them, as I had twice before that day, just reveling in their teasing and "fighting" and small talk.
Since my separation 19 months ago, nothing has been more important to me than giving my children a sense of stability and an unwaivering confidence in the love that I have for them. And as I watched my two beautiful kids banter with each other, I thought: I believe I am the mother that my kids will come home for.
There is nothing more rewarding.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
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