not just for mothers

a still true, still resonant post from 2012...

our tiny plucky heroine

with support from Mom

I love my mother dearly, for who she is, her tender heart, her eye for the whimsical and wierd oddities in this world, her clever fingers that taught me at an early age so much of the handwork skills that have brought so much enjoyment into my life, her determination and bravery through all that life has brought her way, has been a great gift to me in addition to the fact that without her, I would not be here walking in this bright world in the first place. So to her, I say, not just for today but for every day, I love you so much!

But I, through fortune's turn and various hard choices, did not and will never follow in her footsteps. There are no children of my body that will look to me as I look to her. As a young woman, I chose not to marry the alcoholic man that was the only one that offered to share my life and bed, carefully chose to make certain that I did not bear a child to raise alone, and for years now that has not been even an option, even before the most current surgery took away those parts of my woman's body. Maybe 'tis only as a child of the fifties and sixties that there is a bittersweetness in the idea of a Mother's Day, for as a child the paradigm was to grow up to be a mommy, despite all the other things that were already possible even then... There is no holiday for single women, no fairy tale in our culture of the happy ending for the woman alone. So be it. That means it is up to all and each of us who walk outside the storied path to find our own celebrations, our own happy endings...