One of my favorite poems from Hafiz is about the Sun, and how it lights up everything and never says “you owe me”. That is what I think of when I think of motherhood. Like the sun, it keeps on giving and epitomizes supreme selflessness.
On Mother’s Day we think of our own mothers, and how beautifully they shaped our world with all the love and sunshine and the attendant sacrifices, courage and tenacity. My mother was the emblem of sacrifice not just for us, but for her whole extended family of in-laws. She silently served all and never complained, even though we moved homes at least 10 times during our childhood due to my father’s diplomatic career.
We also reflect on the gift of motherhood itself- what a blessing to give birth to another human being, a whole new world within this big universe! When I think of motherhood I feel that it is the biggest gift to a human, to give birth and raise other human beings. It feels like an honor to be given that trust by God. And we all hope we earned that trust.
It is an awesome and sometimes overwhelming responsibility, and we are never prepared to know it until we are in it. We are able to sacrifice more than we ever imagined as we reach deep inside to the infinite gift of love that transcends all hardships, whether it is lack of sleep, lack of self-care, a life turned upside down. And when we see our children become mothers, we admire them as they go through their motherhood. Of course, we may make mistakes too, and hope to make it up as grandmothers!
It is a blessing of deep emotional connection unlike any other. I remember when I visited my mother who left us three years ago. When I arrived to visit her in Philadelphia, her face lit up, her eyes melted with love, and I caressed her soft skin and kissed her in her recliner. Those unique moments will always nourish me as they are the most precious memories. I am so grateful to my sister and brother, who took such good care of her, pitching in for all five of us.
In our culture, a mother’s blessing is honored, and her heartfelt prayers heal and support us. We are taught in our culture and our different faiths to always love our mothers. In the Quran it even says that heaven is at the mother’s feet. I love how in Turkey children and other young ones kiss the hands of elders and in India how they touch the feet to show respect.
And as mothers, let us always remember those who suffer any kind of loss, such as my best friend who lost her firstborn son- we only can love her in our ways as she bears that deep loss; or those children who lose their mothers as in Gaza and other war-torn areas. May they be touched by the love of woman, whether mother or not, or man, whether father or not. One of my friends is in Beirut helping Syrian refugee kids right now, and I honor her “motherhood” too- she brings sunshine to suffering children.
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