AN OUNCE OF MOTHER

Sandra, my best friend, told me one lonely night when we were both missing our absent mothers,

"An ounce of mother is worth a ton of priest."

To me, mothers share a lot in common with farmers.

Like farmers, they toil every day. They sow seeds without a promise of a sure harvest.

Under the most harsh conditions, they till the soil, pull weeds, and prune where they believe it is needed.

With no promise of a certain return or a good harvest for all their labor, they work on.

What did my own mother often tell me? "Mothers hold their children's hands for only a short time -- but their hearts forever."

And for all their efforts, their loving kindnesses, their reluctant punishments --

they tend to slowly fade into the shadows, hidden from the spotlight of their children's ever-growing focus upon themselves, their wants, their lives.

Mothers often grow ghost-like even in the eyes of their husbands, chained to the demands of job, bills, and a vitality that is frighteningly leaving them.

For all you mothers out there who feel they are slowly becoming invisible, unappreciated, and alone. Here is a video I borrowed from Kimberly Job's lovely blog, SCRIBBLED SCRAPS : http://scribbledscraps.blogspot.com/

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