Thanksgiving. I am grateful for, among other things, my three mothers. My Ma, my biologic mother, is my real mother who’s unfailing and my most steadfast supporter who has done the best as a mother as she knew how. She reversed the effects of alcoholism in 3 generations and raised children who are addiction free.
Then there is my ‘mother’ in Georgetown, who is a southern lady, who told me, “I’m your mother in DC and I will keep you clearheaded when it gets hard.”
And then, there is the one that everyone calls Mother. She’s my friend’s mom and Mother makes food that just feed my soul. Today, Mother made stuffing, turkey, sweet potato, collard greens, mac and cheese, and it’s 10PM and I’m still eating the home cooking leftovers. She told the story of her grandmother, whom everyone also called Mother.
When Mother was alive and when you called Mother w any kind of trouble, she’d hear the first sentence or just enough before immediately saying, “I am on my knees.” Click. She would say nothing more, waste no time, hang up the phone. And she would be on her knees praying.
“Mother, I think my wrist is broken.”
“I am on my knees.” Click.
I am on my knees praying tonight, for myself, but especially for the plight of 3 unrelated children. The youngest one, 5 years old, Elijah, snuggled up and parked himself in my arms and I didn’t want to let him go. The middle one, 6 years old, my niece YY, shouted “GuGu” and I should have stopped the unimportant small talks and taken her in my arms. The oldest one, a 10 year old, is a child who is probably going so much. I wish joy upon these children but most of all, I wish they’ll listen to their inner voices and their higher selves and know that no matter what the external chatters and circumstances created by the adults, they are wise, resilient, precious and blissful beings that are forever, always, and have existed before time and will exist till all of time.