It
all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the
way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and
ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on
the phone?'
Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone,
or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the
corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible
Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more! Can you fix
this? Can you tie this? Can you open this??
Some days I'm not a
pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What
time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney
Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'
Some days I'm a crystal ball; 'Where's my other sock?, Where's my phone?, What's for dinner?'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the
eyes that studied history, music and literature -but now, they had
disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going,
she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having
dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. She had just
gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the
hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others
all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for
myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when she turned to me with a
beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a
book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd
given it to me until I read her inscription: 'With admiration for the
greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the
days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover
what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could
pattern my work: 1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we
have no record of their names. 2) These builders gave their whole lives
for a work they would never see finished. 3) They made great sacrifices
and expected no credit. 4) The passion of their building was fueled by
their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A story of
legend in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral
while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on
the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you
spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered
by the roof, No one will ever see it And the workman replied, 'Because
God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall
into place. It was Almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see
you. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around
you does.
No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn
on, no cupcake you've baked, no Cub Scout meeting, no last minute
errand is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a
great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As
one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see
finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The
writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever
be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to
sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't
want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for
Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade
pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for 3 hours and presses all the
linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a monument to myself. I
just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more
to say to his friend, he'd say, 'You're gonna love it there...'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if
we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world
will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has
been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible mothers.-Author
unknown
Even if you've never given "birth"
Even if you aren't married
No matter your age
If you have made a difference in the life of a child, a teen, a young man or young woman
I say
Happy Mother's Day to YOU!!
Because it takes a LOT more than giving birth to be a MOTHER
TO ALL THE AUNTIES, GRAMMIES, MIMAWS, SISTERS, AND MOMS OUT THERE!
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO YOU
(Mother, my brother and me-Mexican passport photo)
xoxo
Patty
This post gives me chills (in a *good* way!) .. so beautiful and timely - I hope your Mother's Day (and all days as a mom) was wonderful!
ReplyDeletePatty (love your name :-))
Thank you for your kind comment. I am glad you enjoyed it.
DeleteThis is a post that I will remember. It's such a beautiful and true meaning. I loved this and soaked in the words. Thank you for sharing the messages.
ReplyDeleteAleta, I really like it too. I found it yesterday when I was searching amongst my documents. I was actually feeling kind of down, it being Mother's Day and all, I felt, well, kind of INVISIBLE. When I came across this on my computer, I teared up and thought I'd share it.
Delete