The Hardest Job You’ll Ever Love

These words were how she described her role as a parent. Suzanna’s young daughter had hit a rough patch and tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke about it.  Another young mom described her initiation into motherhood. She had competed at the highest level of her sport in college, survived a 72-hour simulation of World War III while working on her advanced degree, was employed in at the White House and none of that, she confessed, was anywhere near as hard as breastfeeding and being a mother. Yet another woman said, I’ve worked in the ER, the OR, seen all kinds of traumatic situations but motherhood is by far the most traumatic thing.

Moms everywhere overcome extreme hardships, challenges, sleepless nights, financial insecurities, physical trials and much more for their children. They sacrifice their very bodies for their offspring and could water the earth with the tears they’ve shed in the depth of the night when one was not well. “We are only as happy as our most miserable kid,” is how my friend, Maureen put it. Isn’t that the truth!

Motherhood is indeed tough and I think it is safe to say that all of us mothers, at one point or another, or many, feel incompetent, under prepared and downright inadequate to handle the demands of such a lofty position. Mothers who have mothered for many years often reflect back with the newfound wisdom that comes with age asking; did I do ok? How badly did I mess things up? We easily blame ourselves for things that didn’t turn out exactly as we had expected or intended. They rarely do. 

It’s hard being a Mom. So much responsibility, so much riding on our shoulders, so much joy and suffering. Things do go right and things do go wrong. Even the finest mothers will at some point make mistakes some, perhaps, even catastrophic. But who wants to give it up? No one! We live in the future that we cannot see and the past which we cannot change. Both meet in the present moment which is enough to endure on its own. 

No matter where we are on the timeline of motherhood, I think we can appreciate the words of this poem by David Ray. 

Thanks, Robert Frost

Do you have hope for the future?

Someone asked Robert Frost, toward the end.

Yes, and even for the past, he replied,

that it will turn out to have been all right

for what it was, something we can accept,

mistakes made by the selves we had to be, 

not able to be perhaps, what we wished, 

or what looking back half the time it seems

we could have so easily been, or ought…

The future, yes, and even for the past,

that it will become something we can bear.

And I too, and my children, so I hope,

will recall as not too heavy the tug of 

those albatrosses I sadly placed 

upon their tender necks. Hope for the past, 

yes, old Frost, your words provide that courage,

and it brings a strange peace that itself passes,

into past, easier to bear because 

you said it, rather casually, as snow

went on falling in Vermont years ago. 

 

May God bless all Mothers past, present and future. We trust the future to God’s grace and offer the past to that great repository of insights and experience that become treasured wisdom. 

Happy Mother's Day!