Motherhood

I had so many moms growing up. I was raised in so many different households, some for weeks at a time, some for months, and some for years, and many intermingled, back and forth. I had a patchwork quilt of families to call mine, and each person and family has wrapped what good they could around me and left an indelible mark on the person I’ve grown into.

Here’s a quick list, without getting into any details yet: mom, 3 step-moms, dad’s girlfriends, “foster” grandma, “foster” mom/sister/aunt/friend, 4 aunts on my mom’s side, 5 aunts on my dad’s side, 2 grandmas, older female cousins, brothers’ wives, best neighbor ever, first and fourth grade teachers, middle school teacher, ski team friends’ moms, mother-in-law, sister’s mother-in-law, church friends/mentors, MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) mentors and speakers, ministry mentors, female co-workers/bosses/colleagues, book moms: Ruth Peale, Ruth Graham, Corrie Ten Boom, Julie Ann Barnhill, and Linda Cochrane.

You may be thinking of some of these people, really, those people were like a mom to you? But when you grow up with/without your mom (even before she died she wasn’t always there), whenever a nurturing female is around, she gives you something you desperately need, and she becomes an important part of your life, even if only for a very short time. I needed all of these people, for all of the various pieces they’ve all contributed to the person, the wife, the mom, the citizen I am now.

I never thought about being a mother myself when I was little. I was terrified of growing up. I never dreamed about what my own household would look like. I never imagined I would be blessed to have the family that I now have, by the grace of God.

One of the biggest holes in my growing up years was to never have any framed pictures of my family around. When I would go to a friend’s or a cousin’s house, they all seemed to have only had one family, one home, and so many pictures on the shelves and walls.

That’s the one thing I knew I wanted some day, pictures of my family, all over the place. If you saw my home today, you’d see all the many pictures. It makes my husband a little claustrophobic, but he allows it because he knows how much they mean to me.

And now, thanks to all of the many moms I’ve had, I’ve been able to pass all the best parts (as best I could) of the patchwork quilt of nurturing motherhood down to my kids. And through all of life and marriage’s ups and downs, my husband and I have been able to give our kids one family, one home full of love, discipline, structure and warmth. Inconceivable but true. Thank you God. Thank you for all my moms.