I say "women," and not "mothers" because I know of some women that have never had children of their own who very much have an inner mother. They mother the people around them. They mother nature (no pun intended). I marvel at women, their strength and resilience. Women in third world countries have to endure hardships and heartbreak I cannot even fathom. Over the weekend when we were camping I struck up a conversation in the bathroom with another mom, we were both there to brush our teeth and restore our appearances a little after sleeping in a tent, agreeing that wearing a hat was the way to go. As it turned out, she was a fellow homeschooling mom, with three children, the younger two having dyslexia. My younger two have some dyslexia, Jordan having it worse than Zach, but nowhere near as bad as this woman's youngest child. She described some major hurdles she was battling to educate her kids at home, with learning issues, but the least of which was not her breast cancer. Women going through cancer, especially moms, are the bravest creatures I can imagine. Listening to her story (her name was Angie) gave me such an appreciation for this "club" that I am a part of, this "woman club." We are fearfully and wonderfully made. I had what I like to call a little download while I was camping, looking at myself in the mirror each day with my puffiness and wrinkles amplified from allergies and disrupted sleep, and realized (okay, nothing new here, I know) that our society places such an emphasis on youth, that we do such a disservice to mature adults. Wrinkles are badges. Wrinkles have honor. They say, "I have lived through some shit. I'm still here. I have wisdom." You know what I mean? I am currently reading a book called "The Essence of the Bhagavad Gita," by Eknath Easwaran, which is about practically applying the Bhagavad Gita to everyday life (same principles you find in the Bible, by the way). Most recently I was reading about our fixation with packaging, and even with people we tend to focus on their "packaging," when what we should be seeing is what is inside them. I decided that I need to do that with myself, because I do usually see the inner person in others, but struggle to do the same with myself. With 40 approaching me I am realizing that time is marching on, and I am only going to start looking older, not younger, so I have to decide if I am going to let that bother me, or if I am going to wear my age like the badge of honor that it is. I still think of my own mother as one of the most beautiful and inspirational women I know. I have always strived to be more like her, and the older I get I am rewarded with being able to see my inner Mary Anne. I am proud to say that I am cut from that same cloth. Love you, Mom. Love you, you kick-ass women out there, rock on.
This bunch is worth every gray hair and wrinkle!
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