Reading to my children was a very special time for me. We would read as we snuggled in bed or somewhere comfy and whenever the time would allow. Usually it was done at bedtime. They would choose their favorite stories some I loved, however others I would groan and sigh for they must know them by heart as they were read to them so often. They learned the alphabet and numbers at story time from the stacks of hardcovers. They learned manners and how to be kind to others with Richard Scarry and Ezra Jack Keats. They learned problem solving and honesty with the Berenstain Bears. They know about perseverance and that nothing is impossible with Katy Caboose from Bill Peet’s crisp pages. I look back at how much fun and rewarding it was to be their Mom. How life seemed carefree and how privileged Chris and I were to have this brood. My husband Chris and I have raised our three children together as partners. We didn’t always agree nor have the same style of instruction when it came to the children. However we did agree we had this momentous task and we would be accountable to one another to carry it out together.
So that brings me to the subject on my mind that I have been chewing on for a while and I would like to express my thoughts with true sincerity.
Many have written or spoken tributes for the single Mom and the Mom raising special needs children. Always highly praised and applauded, these women are unquestionably worthy of these accolades. They go above and beyond, sacrificing self for their children’s significance. As many have declared, I too agree they do amazing, awesome and unbelievable jobs.
This is for all the Women who have raised their children with the same partner for over 30 years, have children that were born relatively healthy, excelled in school, graduated, possibly went to college or got married. She might feel a bit misplaced. Maybe she feels a little self-conscious that her children have developed into mature adults without major incidents during the 18-20 years in their parents care. Embarrassed perhaps? Embarrassed for what, you ask? According to our society she has been labeled as fortunate, “lucky” or led down the tranquil path. Easy as her life may appear I think she needs to be recognized even though she doesn’t ask to be or crave the affirmation.
A strong Woman is one who reluctantly releases her grip of the kindergartener’s hand as he gets swallowed up by the school bus that first day.
A Woman is strong when she sits in the bleachers at the basketball game to see her little one struggle to dribble the ball. She anticipates the tears she will be wiping away when her child is crushed because she was ostracized for not being a born athlete.
The laughter of adults sitting in the row in front of her, watching a school musical as her child shows his rhythm and enjoyment of the moment, not just standing like a stone as the rest of the children are. Their laughter wounds her but the Woman is stronger in spite of their ignorance.
She has to be a bit stronger when the innocence of 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th turns into 6th Grade. Strength needs to increase when adolescence generates secrets, distrust, frustration, hopelessness, conformity, bulling, cliques, lack of self-esteem,and many other maladies that she as a Mom is powerless to remedy. All she can do is make her home a safe place, hope they will surpass with minimal scarring and discover self-worth.
Broad shoulders appear at 8th grade graduation, for her heart’s burden will get heavier. She can’t succumb to self-pity when feeling so irrelevant by the ‘awareness’ and ‘enlightenment’ the high schoolers have attained. She tries to be on their level and thinks she’s ‘hip’ enough but to no avail. The responses are eye rolling with grimaced smiles and the inaudible retorts.
After high school graduation she fools herself into thinking she has them back, on the contrary, it’s just a brief reprieve. She becomes stout hearted when traveling to move him to college, he has become a man. The Woman’s heart struggles with a tug a war between swelling with pride and clenching with apprehension. Once he is settled she is finally traveling back home, her mask comes off, she releases the tears and exposes her heartache. But she remains strong.
The Woman relies on her strength as she watches the bride breeze into the reception to dance with her new husband. She is reminiscing of when the bride was small she held her close on her lap, stroking her hair, softly singing and being the most important person in the world at that time.
Her strength is tested when he boards a plane heading to basic military training on the opposite side of the country. He is so young and enthusiastic about his goals, she smiles at him with support but her apprehension has made her knees weak.
One by one her children leave to pursue their dreams and become all that she can hope for. She has no regrets in the time invested in them, in their desires and interests as that’s what has shaped them. She has devoted her time, her heart, and her soul in them. However the Woman is no longer the center of their universe.
Once upon a time she was a diamond in the rough, insecure, rough around the edges, clumsy, and a bit dull. She has been transformed by years of refinement. The Woman is independent, yet dependent on the love of her family, her radiance can only be admired in a setting that is suited for her alone. Like a an exquisite diamond, she has many facets, beaming with clarity, poised and above all a Strong Woman.
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