Could it really be 44 years since I nursed my firstborn in a sweet, long-ago rocking chair? And then two years later my second baby boy too? I try to recapture the feeling and smell and sound of it all. Such purity and innocence. The beauty of timing out the rest of the world while holding the entire universe in my arms. I could say no to everything and everybody without guilt because my baby came first. I could laugh and lullaby and coo and cuddle forever and it was alright. I would just rock on and it was as it should be. I knew my place and purpose and discovered the amazement of letting my body take over and do what it was born to do naturally. I never could have imagined that I was capable of nurturing another without running interference. Without me getting in the way of such loveliness…
It’s hard to envision that same me today. Yes, I’m way older (and so are those precious babies I held so close; now splendid men I adore), but the world as it was then has also changed. I often wish I could climb into that space and rock peacefully back in time and block out the daily batterings of overwhelming cruelty ricocheting around the world.
When did we become such an angry planet? Was this always so or do we just know more and much faster than ever? How is it right for mothers and babies of all species to be crying out to each other as the most horrific acts imaginable are happening to them? Every. Single. Moment? I won’t list them here. You know them well.
But on this Mother’s Day I pray. I pray harder than I’ve ever prayed in my life. For the splendid nurturers—both women and men—who are sacrificing their lives for the sake of others. I pray for the care-givers, the healers, the activists, the believers who don’t and won’t give up fighting for the right of others to live freely and with kindness and compassion and love.
One doesn’t have to be a biological mother or father to mother another. And those who can’t or won’t become child-bearers still can be nurturers of life—for animals and nature and so many others who need a loving, protective and helping hand—a shining light in the darkness. That’s what mothering is all about.
I wish I could give the world rocking chairs. And one-by-one we would begin to rock back and forth embracing the beauty of who we are and loving ourselves first before we have the energy and time to love each other. We would just rock all those good vibes into our souls and then gather the rest of the world into our arms and lift it all into a collective lullaby of peace and unity.
“Hush little baby don’t say a word. Mama’s gonna buy you a mocking bird…”
Happy Mother’s Day, everyone. I love you…
