Are there really adequate words to describe the many wonders and intricate workings of God’s greatest creation, mothers? One of my favorite quotes is “God could not be everywhere, so He created Mothers.”
Most of us, humble humans that we are, still can get teary and filled with emotion when we speak of our mothers. For myself, I know that even though it is over thirty-five years since my mother passed on, whenever anything significant happens in my life, I still automatically think, “I have to call Mother.”
I have traveled quite far on the road of motherhood. I was the little girl, totally dependent on my mother, then in the blink of an eye, I was a young mother myself to three children whom I adored. Then, in another blink of an eye, my two daughters were mothers.
It seemed so impossible to me! And wonderful mothers they are! Wow! In another blink my daughter’s children had children, impossible, I thought!
As I continued to feel the effects of growing older on motherhood’s link chain, my grandchildren had children! Now the word Great has been added to my title. What an honor. I am not sure about great, but I am positive about being proud.
Each one of you reading this today has their own memories and stories about how motherhood has changed your life. For many of us, they are the jewels in our life treasure box.
If we are fortunate, we have also been blessed with mother figures throughout our lives. I have been most fortunate in that category.
When I was young, a neighbor, Anna Lesley, stepped up at a crucial time, and because of her, my life was changed for the better in many ways. But it was more than that; she was also a role model to follow when I became a mother. Maybe you have known that blessing as well?
My mother and I lived great distances apart for many years, and it always seemed like a miracle to me that, when I needed someone the most, a woman appeared to fill that role.
Maybe that is why I have always been so eager to step in as one of those fill-in moms when needed. I realized that just as we may need someone to be a temporary mother at times, there were also people who needed me.
During my time living in Los Angeles, I had the blessing of both. After my parents’ divorce, we moved to California. When we landed in the famous city of found fortunes, my mother was star-struck by once more being single. While she discovered that new world, I, as a young teenager, was dealing with another set of challenges.
I was fortunate to live in an apartment building with a woman named Betty Dancer. Although the couple had two young children, they made room for me in their hearts.
There, I was introduced to a different kind of mother, the kind that made matzo ball soup and honored the Sabbath on Friday evenings. I was taken to the Temple with them and soaked in the sounds of the Cantor. I listened to Betty and Bob read the Old Testament.
I learned much about the strength of mothers from the Bible. I learned to seek out quiet time, something that the rest of my life at the time did not contain, and I still seek it now. Betty was a very gentle woman who gave so generously of herself.
I was also able to witness another kind of role. The role of a wife is one that made a deep impression on me, and one I later tried to replicate. There was plenty of time for me to care for her two children as well, and I learned a lot about hands-on mothering that way.
All of that was to come in handy when I had my first child, Brett, four years later. Betty left a mark on my heart that has never faded.
After having my third child at the ripe old age of twenty-one, we moved across the street from an eleven-year-old girl named Sue.
I was to learn that her mother had committed suicide a few weeks before. I can still see her wounded eyes, the grey circles under them that gave testimony to all her tears and sleepless nights. It was as if there was a magnet that pulled the two of us together.
Sue quickly became a member of our family, another sibling for my children. What felt to me like another child, ten years younger than myself. I would later attend her wedding, hold her daughter as her Nana and worry about her in her troubled days.
When she died, I felt a deep loss, and I still feel it today. Sue remains in my heart, and I am glad that I was there when she needed me.
In my twenties, I met Ernestine through my children’s school. Despite our age difference, we formed a close bond.
My mother lived far away, and Ernestine comforted me when needed. She had adopted two sons but always wanted a daughter. Our relationship lasted over a decade.
I supported her when her son died in a car accident, and she helped me when my first husband left. It felt like we were meant to be in each other’s lives for those important times.
When I moved to Los Banos many years later, my mother, who was suffering from Alzheimer’s, moved in with Ron and me. As difficult as that time was, it was also a gift.
I was able to be with my mother until she died, each moment now engraved in my heart and memory. It also gave me the rare opportunity to become involved in a unique role reversal. Suddenly, I was placed in the mother role, and she was my child.
There was a special tenderness during that chaotic time. For so many times in my life, I had wished for my mother to be near me, to need me. Now, in a unique way that wish had been fulfilled.
Still shaken by the loss of my mother, another door was opened for me with the name June Erreca. This magnificent woman was a pillar in the community. She took my hand and led me to a new future of involvement in Los Banos. She taught me, groomed me and loved me. June taught me so much about how to transition to a new life.
One that was so full of new opportunities. Her faith in me, her occasional nudges, helped me grow, and I basked in her love. I had the honor of carrying her husband, Emil’s, bible down to the altar upon his death. I was able to offer some support.
Later, she was there for me when my husband Ron died. I was honored to be asked to deliver June’s eulogy at her funeral. A strand of wood beads that June brought home from Hawaii lies on my dresser in memory.
Now, as I am in my senior years, and my health has not been great, I witness my daughters step up and care for me. It is a humbling experience to witness the circle of life and the motherhood link-chain of transitions, as we allow our children to take center stage.
I wish all mothers, at whatever stage you may be on this continuous cycle, a very happy Mother’s Day.
Diana Ingram can be reached at DingramThurston21@gmail.com
