On Mother’s Day we celebrate the gift OF mothers.
I am lucky enough to have known four generations of mothers. In the first generation there were my grandmothers, born before Australia was a nation. They were unfortunately not geographically close, and it was a special treat to visit and receive their loving cuddles.
My own dear mother was lost to us fifteen years ago and I think of her often as the memory becomes progressively dimmer. Being a family historian I have learned a lot about her life both from herself and as well as other research. She grew up in a different world, one of depression and war, then raised four children and cared for a husband who had suffered greatly in that war. In a simple home we wanted for nothing of importance and especially love. Although it was still the era when the man was the head of the household, there was no doubt that Mum was its heart.
Fast forward to today and I am surrounded by mothers: my dear wife and two daughters.
As a husband and father, of course I have never had the same physical and emotional attachment as a mother to the child she has carried. Despite a father’s love, the connection is different, and as well as awe there is even some envy at being outside that “mothers’ club.”
I have watched our children and am now watching our grandchildren being mothered, and am so grateful to have these wonderful women in my life.
Happy Mother’s Day.