Friday, May 9, 2014

The Love of a Mother...by Mary Hazlett

Mom...such a small word for someone so amazing!  My mother always had her mind or rather her heart her family.  And to prove it here is an email she sent October 31st, 2006 to all of us kids.  Happy Mother's Day to you Mom!  I am so grateful for your example of LOVE!!!  







Hi Kids! 
A lady who adores Ida Chatter forwarded this to me recently. And right after 
I got through bawling my head off I thought, "Wow, that's exactly how I 
feel!" 
This is for those who think it's easy for me to back off being the mother 
I've been for so many years. I also hope you 'll forgive me for interferring 
(I think it's just being concerned) in your lives. Thought this might help 
you to understand. 
I love you all, with all my heart! .... MOM OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX 


Being a MOM 

    We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions 
    that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family." 
    "We're taking a survey," she says half-joking. "Do you think I 
    should have a baby?" 

    "It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone 
    neutral. 

    "I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more 
    spontaneous vacations." 

    But that is not what I meant at all. 
    I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. 
    I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. 

    I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will 
    heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so 
    raw that she will forever be vulnerable. 

    I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper 
    without asking, "What if that had been MY child?" 
    That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. 

    That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder 
    if anything could be worse than watching your child die. 

    I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think 
    that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce 
    her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an 
    urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a soufflĂ© or her best 
    crystal without a moments hesitation. 

    I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she 
    has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by 
    motherhood.  She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be 
    going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's 
    sweet smell.  She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from 
    running home, just to make sure her baby is all right. 

    I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer 
    be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room 
    rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemm a. 
    That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming 
    children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed 
    against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that 
    restroom. 

    However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess 
    herself constantly as a mother. 

    Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that 
    eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never 
    feel the same about herself. 

    That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once 
    she has a child. That she would give herself up in a moment to save 
    her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to 
    accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs. 

    I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks 
    will become badges of honor. 

    My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not 
    in the way she thinks. 

    I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who 
    is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his 
    child. 

    I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again 
    for reasons she would now find very unromantic. 

    I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women 
    throughout history who have t ried to stop war, prejudice and drunk 
    driving. 

    I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your 
    child learn to ride a bike. 

    I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is 
    touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time. 

    I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts. 

    My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have 
    formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I 
    reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent 
    prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who 
    stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings. 

    Please share this with a Mom that you know or all of your 
    girlfriends who may someday be Moms. May you always have in your arms 
    the one who is in your heart!