As I was reminded at church today, Mother’s Day may be hard for some people. Some, like me, have lost their mother’s–in my case, six years ago. And while I can still celebrate her life she isn’t physically present to go out to lunch with or something like that. Others never had a mother–in the sense of one being present in their lives. Others couldn’t have children and desperately wanted to. Others have lost their children to miscarriages or other tragedies. Still others have had mothers who were abusive or negligent. And still others have a strained relationship with their mothers, and some mothers have a strained relationship with their children.
There are also people like me–people who lived most of their parenting lives as “Dad.” I will always be Dad to my kids–I know I was a father to them and I am glad for that. I am also their mother. So, for me, Mother’s Day is very special. I get to parent in a whole new way and in the same ways I did before coming out. Luckily for me my kids are amazingly supportive and I have already received Mother’s Day greetings from them. However, I am also one of those people who has always (even before coming out as trans) ached to be able to have children—I was always deeply envious of pregnant mothers. I have always ached to be able to nurse a child. I have come to accept neither of these things will ever happen–and I am no less a mother. So, to all the non-binary “Moms” or people who act as mothers to others–regardless of their gender. Happy Parent’s Day to you.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the people out there who mother other people’s children—teachers, nurses, doctors, librarians. Blessings to all the foster moms and moms who have adopted children from around the world or their own communities.
And to all the grandmothers and aunts who have taken on the role of mother again because of special circumstances. Blessings to all the grandmothers who simply get to grandmother grandchildren, and do so with wisdom.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the single Dads who serve as mothers all day, everyday.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the people who have consciously chosen to not bear or raise children. I am willing to bet there is someone or something in your life that you mother, and do so with grace, dignity, and love–be that a pet, a plant, a poem, or a person.
And of course, Happy Mother’s Day to ourselves–no matter who we are–for we all, one day, must begin, and never stop, mothering ourselves. It is just the way that it is–we all become our own mother’s one day–giving birth over and over again to ourselves.
To wrap up I would like to lift up all those for whom Mother’s Day is a hard day. Your soul and spirits are Mothers. You have been mothered by the world. You are Mothers of the world.
And also grieve, or be angry. Seek safe support to be with you today as you move through any difficult or challenging feelings and memories.
You are loved. You are special. And you are held in the hands of Mother Gaia.
Thank you for your support. All donations go to medical expenses and groceries. <3
At some point
Fade into autumn,
Drip their silken petals
One by one,
Thieving November winds;
With their golden eyes
From the pond’s murky edge;
Deer step through
And with a flick
Of their white tails
Right now, here,
Today, your life
And at some point
We will lift
From the pages
Of our lives
In the stars.
Life is long, like
A lazy, sun-drunken
And it’s short,
Like the afore mentioned
Wink of the firefly.
You and I
Are being called
And we are also the ones
Doing the calling.
Beauty needs us,
Faith requires of us,
Love invites us
In the hum
Of our interwoven lives;
And we call out—
We bring to ourselves
And closed doors,
We want and need—
We are meant and ache
To be. And of course,
By the time
You read this
I might already
Be gone; I might
Over your shoulder
And nudging you
To smile and get out there
And amaze the world,
And whether or not
I am still alive
When you read this,
You and I
In this moment,
At this point
And we have a job to do,
A job that isn’t
So much a job
As it is a story
That only you and I
So, here’s the thing:
I want to show the world
Who I really am.
Will you help me
Tell this part
Of the story?
And what about you?
What is it you
Want to do and say?
Whatever it is,
To be with you
From my place
Of light beyond light,
Or from here,
In these words–
At this moment in time
To be here
We all know
You will be the last one standing.
After all the fires and floods
You will step out from the ruins
And take your rightful place
At the center of all things.
How can we redeem ourselves now
So that you will not swallow us up into your endless belly?
Is there a way you can unfold yourself now
So that when the time comes for our souls
To thaw and to lift, we won’t be so afraid when you call our names?
Is there a way of touching you now
So that when you drape us in your arms
Your embrace won’t feel so cold and foreign?
Is there a way, Silence, of getting to know you now
So that when the softening comes,
And the rendering, we won’t be so afraid
That we beg to be born again?
With all of our distractions and means
Of avoiding you we know we fear the thing
We want the most.
Speak through us now so that we may learn
Your language, sing through us now
So that we may learn your melody,
Move through us now so that when our steps distill into dancing
We will fall joyfully into the feathers
Of your waiting and terrible wings.
Spring is trying,
The trees turning into carnivals of flowers are trying,
The roots are trying,
The sky is trying,
And the robins, the hawks,
The invisible, but audible owls are trying,
So many people are trying,
I know they are asking
Their gods to try,
I know you are trying.
I only hope it’s not too late.
That I am not already dead,
That the block not letting the air
Into my heart isn’t too massive,
Too menacing to let any breath
Escape in or out. I only hope
I can trust the kiss, the passage
Of your strength and courage
Into my chest. I only hope
The breathing will catch hold
And then gradually level into calm.
And I might need to hold your hand,
And I might need you to tell me
To hold on, or to let go,
And I might need you to have me,
To not let me drift into nothingness
Once I do let go or hold on,
Whichever the case may be once
The stream of your breath begins swirling
In my lungs, and I open my eyes
And live again.
And I might need you to remind me
There is white light around me
And within me.
And I need it be OK with you that I need you.
And I might need you to be the white light for awhile
And embrace me with healing gentleness like there’s no tomorrow,
Until I rise again a new creation.
I only hope it’s not too late.
That I am not already dead.
That once I begin to feel
The warmth of your breath
That whatever it is within me that is frozen
Will begin to thaw,
Will have its own experience of spring,
And will suddenly and without shame
Blossom into a life that is alive.