An e-mail worth sharing..

Subject: Happy Mothers Day

This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers
in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and
cherry Kool-Aid saying, "It's okay honey, Mommy's here"
Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end soothing crying
babies who can't be comforted. This is for all the mothers who show up
at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses
and diapers in their purse.

For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew
Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see.
And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.
This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections are
hanging on their refrigerator doors.

And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers
at football or soccer games instead of watching from the warmth of
their cars, so that when their kids asked, "Did you see me, Mom?" they could
say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world," and mean it.

This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the
grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and scream
for ice cream before dinner. And for all the mothers who count to ten

instead, but realize how child abuse happens.

This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and
explained all about making babies. And for all the (grand) mothers
who wanted to, but just couldn't find the words.

This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can
eat. For all the mothers who read "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for
a year. And then read it again. "Just one more time."

This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie
their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who
opted for Velcro instead.

This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and
their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a
little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their
own offspring are at home -- or even away at college.

This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with
stomach aches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only
to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick
them up. Right away.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't
find the words to reach them.
For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when
their 14 year olds dye their hair green.

For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings,
and the mothers of those who did the shooting.
For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in
front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from
school, safely.

This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be
peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.

What makes a good Mother anyway?
Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby,
cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?

Or is it in her heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your
son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for
the very first time?
The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2
A.M. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?

The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when you just
want to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in
your home?

Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child
when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?
The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are
for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep
deprivation...

And mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.
Single mothers and married mothers..
Mothers with money, mothers without.
This is for you all. For all of us

Hang in there. In the end we can only do the best we can. Tell
them every day that we love them. And pray.

"Home is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall."