All the Mothers I Know

I may be a little more sentimental about Mother's Day this year because it's the first year I don't have my own mother.

Although my own mother gave birth to me and was the best mother she knew how to be, I have had many other women who have been a mother to me, and this is my tribute to them.

Nana, Charlene, Margaret, Mae, Lucy, Marilyn, just to name a few.

Mothering doesn't happen just from biological mother to child. Mothering happens by women who surround us and love us throughout the course of our daily lives, who boost us up when we're the most downtrodden, through all the hugs, the advice, the fighting, the tears, the laughs and happiness.

The women I've named above have been angels in my life. Nana taught me so many things, I couldn't even list them here. Charlene has been this wonderful constant, this woman from Northern California who happened to transfer to Ohio just at a time when I needed someone the most. She took a teenage girl under her wing and nurtured her and protected her. She taught me that you always help a child, and there is always a child who needs help.

She's the reason I will always say that I am Italian, but I am also part Hippie. She is the most loving, caring free spirit who taught me to love Birkenstocks, to search for fireflies and that you can in fact bathe in a lake.

Mae has been the best role model a young girl could ever have. Lucy, as my older sister, always has played the role of mother with me. She has always made sure I've been OK. "What have you learned?" she'll ask me when I make a silly mistake. She will never belittle me for the mistake, she'll just remind me that I'll learn from it and grow.

And my darling mother in law, Margaret, with whom I've shared many laughs, many tears, who held me and let me cry in her arms when I had a miscarriage; who has celebrated my writing and nurtured my soul; who sings with me and dances with me in the kitchen while we're cooking, and even when we're not; who has taught me that you cry your tears and then get up and fight another day.

New mothers pop up in our lives, and that is where Marilyn Knol came in, a woman who I met through another friend in Edmond, Oklahoma. As I sobbed about the loss of my own mother, Marilyn said, "I'll be your mother." Even though at age 60-something she has three of her own children and several grandchildren, she's taken me under her wing.
She danced with me in my living room and we've shared many, many laughs over sometimes too much wine. When I built the garden in my backyard in memory of my mother, Marilyn and her husband Allen gave me beautiful hostas that made the garden seem just right, just what my mom would have wanted.
And Marilyn taught me that you build a room where you can cherish the memories of your lost loved ones, and each day, you can step into that room and say, "Good morning, Mom. I love you and I think about you every day."

Just when I get caught up in thinking that the president of the United States or the Pope may be the most powerful person in the world, I take a step back and realize the most powerful and most important person is a mother.

Thank you to all the women who have mothered me.