She ain’t heavy; she’s my mother

A dragging anchor or the wind in my sails?

I hate being a burden, Mom said plaintively. A burden? No, I replied, thinking of the Sixties hit with the line, He ain’t heavy; he’s my brother. 

We’re coming up to Mother’s Day here on Sunday. What a joy and rare privilege to be able to celebrate and thank my dear Mom as she nears her 98th birthday. She ain’t heavy; she’s my mother, who sacrificed so much so that I could live my best life. Always behind me, always encouraging me, always my biggest fan: she is the wind in my sails.

Honour your father and mother, God instructed Moses to inscribe as one of the Ten Commandments. I have been so blessed to have a mother who is easy to honour, who has never been a tempest but always a gentle trade wind. She continues to model patience in the face of shrinking options, steadfast faith despite confusion and the challenges of dementia, loving and putting others’ needs before hers though hers are great and increasing. 

She has been a steady support across the thousands of miles, despite the heartbreak of having her only living daughter and her only grandchildren, and now great grandchildren, living on another continent. She can still muster a ready laugh. She can still listen with thoughtfulness and contribute a wise insight. She can still accept a disappointment with stoicism and never puts demands on me, always reassuring me that I am doing the best I can. That is her catch phrase at the moment. Just do the best you can. God will take care of the rest.

So I just want to pay a loving tribute to this amazing Mom God blessed me with, an inspiration to me, to my family, and to so many others.

May God enable me to continue to do my best for her, and may he take up the slack and provide help when it can’t come from me. And may she continue to be the wind in my sails for as long as the Lord wants her to be his ambassador in the place where she lives, to the people she knows.

Thank you, Lord, for my Mom.