Mama Mia

For most of my life, Mother's Day has been a sad day.  Seventeen years ago my mother slipped over to the next realm leaving me with sadness on this thoughtful yet commercial holiday.  For years I've worked the restaurant circuit and had to endure the giddy families taking their mom's out for a juicy steak.  Occasionally, they'd ask the lowly server about her mother, and I would kindly deflect the question.  She was supposed to be there.  She was supposed to bless me on my wedding day and hold my hand as I gave birth.  Instead these joyous events were shaded with hints of sadness.  Perhaps certain things always will be.  Sometimes your mom should just be there.

But I have come to understand how birth and death are inextricably linked.  The bringing of a baby into the world is that delicate moment - the brink.  It is truly the edge of the world and can sometimes end in sadness as well.  In Spanish it is called dar a luz - to give light.  How beautiful and fitting.  

July 11, 1994, the phone rang.  I went to tell my father.  Light flooding from the bedroom, he came out with a red face.  He said that he needed to talk to me and my sister.  Of course I understood.  We sat on her bed and gravely whispered what we already knew.  He came in and said two words - "She's gone."

But where two words can bring all the sadness of the end of a life spent together, they can also bring all the happiness and possibility this world can offer.

I screamed.  I groaned from the depths of my being.  I felt the burning ring of fire.  I grew and grew and grew 39 weeks of baby in my belly.  And then in that moment... with all the strength in my worn body, I gave light.  And all I could say was two words - "He's here! He's here!"

Like my mother before me and the millions of women before her, I stood at the edge of life and death.  Where one light was extinguished, another was illuminated.  Where a last breath sighed, another sputtered and cried into existence.  

I am the guardian.  I am the nurturer.  I am food and comfort.  I am as present as this life will allow.  Most of all... I am Mother.  And today is all about me.   

Photo by Amy Komar