You may recall that the backdrop for last week’s Inspiration was my niece’s wedding. Nuptial celebrations are filled with a mixed-bag of emotional treasures, especially for the bride, the groom and their parents.
For the couple marrying, there is the joy and anticipation of the impending fruits of their lives together. For the parents, there is the thrilling sense of parental fulfillment coupled with a strange melancholy that comes with witnessing yet another sign of the transition from your “child’s” dependence on you to a life masterpiece of their own creation. Inevitably, it is the penultimate task of a caring parent to commit to loving and teaching their children such that they eventually stand on a different and even higher ground than your indelibly sweet memories of the ages you’ve guided them through. Then, if good fortune really smiles on you, as grandparents, you actually reach a different and higher ground wherein you are sufficiently removed from a parental responsibility role and enter a magical world wherein your primary function is to simply relish just being friends with your children’s children.
The day after the wedding, my other niece and sister of the bride posted on Facebook the picture on the left—the last resting place of my loving and loved mother and their grandmother–her gravesite adorned with wedding bouquets. Not that I needed to be reminded of Mom, for there are few days that she isn’t in my thoughts. To borrow from the lyrics of Van Morrison, on so many days and in so many ways, she was “as sweet as Tupelo honey and an angel of the first degree.” As such, her granddaughter’s bouquets gave a poignant underscoring to the fact that “Momo” was such a wonderful mother and grandmother and, in blessing the world with her presence, truly earned her immortal wings.
This past week, I was fortunate to spend a few days at the beach with my wife, grown children, my daughter-in-law, and my two grandchildren. As our family frolicked in the sand, Mom’s palpable presence was with me. That was especially so on Tuesday, the eighth anniversary of her passing. As it was for the wedding, I know she was there in spirit, but, despite that fervent conviction, there remained and remains in my heart a longing for her physical presence.
In her honor and in tribute to all mothers and grandmothers, I share with you this week a beautiful story written by the late humorist, columnist, and author, Erma Bombeck.
“When God Created Mothers”
When the Good Lord was creating mothers, He was into His sixth day of “overtime” when the angel appeared and said. “You’re doing a lot of fiddling around on this one.”
And God said, “Have you read the specs on this order?” She has to be completely washable, but not plastic. Have 180 moveable parts…all replaceable. Run on black coffee and leftovers. Have a lap that disappears when she stands up. A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair. And six pairs of hands.”
The angel shook her head slowly and said. “Six pairs of hands…. no way.”
It’s not the hands that are causing me problems,” God remarked, “it’s the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have.”
That’s on the standard model?” asked the angel. God nodded.
One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, ‘What are you kids doing in there?’ when she already knows. Another here in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn’t but what she has to know, and of course the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say. ‘I understand and I love you’ without so much as uttering a word.”
“God,” said the angel touching his sleeve gently, “Get some rest tomorrow….”
I can’t,” said God, “I’m so close to creating something so close to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she is sick…can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger…and can get a nine year old to stand under a shower.”
The angel circled the model of a mother very slowly. “It’s too soft,” she sighed.
“But tough!” said God excitedly. “You can imagine what this mother can do or endure.”
“Can it think?”
“Not only can it think, but it can reason and compromise,” said the Creator.
Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek.
“There’s a leak,” she pronounced. “I told You that You were trying to put too much into this model.”
“It’s not a leak,” said the Lord, “It’s a tear.”
“What’s it for?”
“It’s for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness, and pride.”
“You are a genius, ” said the angel.
Somberly, God said, “I didn’t put it there.”
“Motherhood is near to divinity. It is the highest, holiest service to be assumed by mankind.” – Howard W. Hunter
Have an AWE-full Weekend!
William J. “Bill” Bacqué