I hear that wonderful song my Etta James….there’s no greater love than the love I have for you. The love of a mother for her child is surpassed by no other love. This is a cellular love, a visceral love and love woven into the very fiber of a woman. There is something profound and singular in the potential of carrying life within. I remember vividly the sensation of being with child. To lie and feel another move within cannot be expressed. I struggle with comprehension. Yet, I look at the faces of my children and what I feel is beyond words, beyond emotions; it is also physical. My love for them is complete. While I am an imperfect person, full of shortcomings and prone to failings, my love of them is unmeasurable and binding. It is everlasting.
I planted a small garden this weekend to honor the mother of my lord this weekend. I believe Mary’s love was truly perfect. Her sacrifice was unfathomable. Did she waver? Did she doubt? Was she always certain and unflinching? I want her patience. I pray for her perseverance. I long for her strength in the calamity of life. And I wish always to know my children, to affirm them even when I may not understand them. I want them to be always sure of my love of them.
Happy Mother’s Day…to my mother and the grandmother of my sons, to each of my sisters and the aunts of my sons. To my niece and my cousins. To all my friends and the brave woman with whom I work. I also pray for all the women who desire a child, to know this love is as close to divine love I think I shall ever get. It is a wonderous thing. I am thankful and grateful.