A Poem for Mothers

I have an amazing mother. I know everyone says that, but I really do. I receive so much of my love for life from her. During my years as a teenager, she was always quick to give advice or leave me a note of encouragement on my usually unmade bed. She came to every piano competition, softball game, choir performance, and church event. She was and is my greatest cheerleader through life. I can always count on my mother to buoy me up when I struggle and rejoice with me when I triumph. I’m so thankful to call her “friend.”

 

My mother is also a brilliant writer. She writes some amazing poetry. Here is one that she wrote entitled “Mother”:

 

Mother

by Kris Amussen

 

I know that word is supposed to mean

That I should teach and lead

And shape your life.

 

I guess it did once,

When you were oh-so-tiny

And I dressed you and tied your shoes,

And licked my fingers to pat that curl

Into being “just so.”

 

But you’ve grown some,

And now you can look into my eyes

Without craning your neck,

And you no longer need my fingers to

pat your curls.

 

Yet you often still come for hugs and kisses,

And just to share some school thoughts,

Or boyfriend thoughts,

Or no thoughts at all—

Just to sit close and share the warmth

 

Some moments still I think as “mother,”

I should be the giver,

At all times, in all places,

Until I am with you,

And I see you give to me,

And teach me and open up new horizons

in my understanding;

 

Then I can see

That being ‘mother’ is also very nice

When it means being ‘friend’ too.

 

Being a mother can be a very thankless job at times and there are definite moments when being a ‘mom’ and a ‘friend’ are not synonymous, but that’s part of the job description, isn’t it? I always tell my kids that they may not like me all of the time, but we’ll be great friends later when I am done trying to make the best versions of them I can.

 

That is what my mother did—she loved me at all times, taught me to do hard things, corrected me when I made mistakes, and chastised me when I needed it. It is because of those hard “mom” things that she did then, that I am thankful now to be able to call her my mother and my friend.