It Comes in Threes

This text is dedicated to my mother and all mothers, natural and otherwise, with a special shout out to the daughters: Lisa and Sandy, Deirdre, Danielle and Kimberly. Ladies, thank you for sharing a piece of your hearts.

It’s only a myth that bad things come in threes right? Events of this year have really started to make a believer out of me. Over the last few months, three of my female friends have been confronted by the heartbreaking death of their mothers. These deaths strangely all happened within three weeks of one another too. Due to the regularity and the numbers, my partner reminded me that we are now men of a certain age when loss will again play its hand in our lives. The last time was in the 80s and 90s when we said goodbye to many of our male friends and lovers from a then mysterious and deadly virus.

I was fortunate to have met these mothers at various times during the friendship with their daughters. The first mother I met only briefly at her daughter’s wedding now almost 13 years ago. The second rewarded my partner and me with a gift of cookies from a secret recipe, as thanks for helping her embarrassingly distraught daughter with her exterior home paint colors. The third relationship goes back to a time when I was a young, clumsy, and awkward teen being introduced for the first time by the eldest of two daughters. The oldest was also classmate and childhood sweetheart. The younger sibling still remains a dear friend today who I love as a sister. The above mentioned matriarchs have produced amazingly wonderful and loving offspring; each one compassionate, talented, and philanthropic in their own way.

I feel very blessed that my mother still remains a part in my life. Though we don’t see each other as frequently as she would like, as a good son (at least I think so) I call her weekly to check in. Time thunderously marches on in our lives and she won’t always be there to tell me everything will be alright. This is something, my sisters and I, often forget about. Growing up, our mother was definitely no Wonder Woman with her golden lasso of truth. In contrast, our mother had the “switch of discipline” or the “belt of defiance.” Believe it or not, I was usually on the receiving end! Before anyone passes judgment on my mother, keep in mind this chapter occurred a very long time ago and was a regular part of the environment in which my mother grew up. Nowadays, anytime we adult kids appear to “get too big for our britches”, my mother threatens to throw us over her knee. That image alone makes me laugh! Her spirituality, love, and wisdom have been a source of comfort for me and my sisters; thank you Ma!

Regardless of the timing or the cause, death is never an easy experience to process.

We all are the product of a mother’s love. Happy Mother’s Day!

A Mother’s Love

A breath of life and the bond created;

This is a mother’s love.

Soft caresses and tears wiped;

This is a mother’s love.

A void of hunger and an appetite suppressed;

This is a mother’s love.

A voice of hope and confidence learned;

This is a mother’s love.

Memories shared and experience gained;

For this is a mother’s gift.

This is a previously published piece from 2017.

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