For You

This is for you...

For the mom who was sitting at the green picnic table with her young son, still in her scrubs, just the two of you. For your hard work day, either coming or going, and your efforts to be with your child. For your beautiful hair constantly tied back, keeping it out of your busy way. 

This is for the mom in her fifties, sitting at the bus stop in a worn jacket. For your life-stricken facial expression and the time you've waited for that bus. For all the time you've sacrificed. For all the tragedy you've seen. 

This is for the mom who is sending her kid off to college, who walks the bookstore with him with a glint of fear in her eye. For the time she's spent trying to prepare him, for the money she's spent on textbooks and fees. For the grief of letting go of a son whom she has taken care of for 18 years. 

This is for the almost mom, the one who is waiting across from me at the ob/gyn office. For the years you've spent trying, for the losses you've endured, for your resentment of Mother's Day. For the pain and suffering, and the feeling of loneliness that creeps in as you watch the three pregnant women on the other side of the room, each of them waiting for an ultrasound, each of them with a partner. 

This is for the mom with the handicapped child, the one who is bound to a wheelchair and needs you 24/7. For the exhaustion that sets in early each day. For the discussions about what how you're going to get over another hurdle and the extra efforts you make to tackle everyday tasks. 

This is for the mom who has listened to the criticism, who has been judged for her methods. For the time your child threw a tantrum in Target when you wouldn't give in to her demands. For letting your boy's hair grow to his shoulders. For your ability to tune out your children so you can have a moment of sanity in this world, and for choosing the times you can ignore them and the times you can't. 

This is for the mom who is not a mom. For the woman who has stepped in to help with someone else's children. For the help you've given to nieces, nephews, or neighborhood kids. For lending a listening ear and a cup of tea to the stressed mother next door who just needed someone to talk to. 

This is for the mom who chooses to breastfeed - or not to breastfeed. For taking care of babies all day and all night, for stirring chili powder into applesauce instead of cinnamon because you were too tired to tell the difference. This is for the mom who was up all night and functions on chocolate and caffeine, for the times you've slipped and tripped and been thrown up on. 

This is for the mom of more than two children, the mom who has screamed swear words with the door shut and eaten an entire tub of Chunky Monkey. For the mom who cries for no reason, who is frustrated and doesn't know what to do. For the moment of break down, the mess that will never be clean, the worry that will never really leave. 

This is for the mom who has lived a lifetime, who is eighty and alone. For the sacrifice you've made for an entire family, for the wisdom and patience you have for all your children and grandchildren. For every line in your face and for a world you never imagined could be, for good and for bad.

For the mom who is raising her grandkids. For the mom who is going through a divorce. For the mom who is an early widow. For the mom who feels little value in herself. For the mom who stays awake nights with anxiety. For the mom who has lost a child. 

This is for you: 

I am with you. We are with each other. No matter how bad things get, someone has lived a similar life. Some have it worse; some have it better. We know how to love and we are learning how to forgive. No one is perfect, and that is the beauty of everything. We may break down, scream, kick, and cry, but we are still swimming. We are all here.

We are one.