The Midlife

Happy Mother’s Day to all those that mother those around them. For those that find this day painful (for various reasons), you are on my mind, too.

Mother, you are my first and best teacher. All of things you have shared with me have been right. Every Hispanic saying and nugget of wisdom remain filed away in my brain and heart. Whether it’s Cada dia en la casa de tu Tia… or Sana Sana Culita de Rana, every thing you have guided me with has been true. I know that raising three moody daughters and one son could not have been easy peasy all days. From your early humble starts to tragic losses, health scares, and triumphs, you are the epitome of grace. And although our conversations these days are spotty, I still hear you in them. I know you are still there. I keep listening and learning.

Moma is my daughter’s name for me. I had never hoped for babies except for my beloved baby dolls, as a kid. And then I met my husband, and my need to be a mother became a mission (and many times a mission impossible). On my 40th birthday, I learned my daughter was growing safely and until she arrived, I awaited with anxiety and hope she would actually arrive safe and sound. My rainbow baby has made me stronger and less scared of my place in this world. In the early throes of motherhood when the days and nights are Groundhog Day-ish and incessant, it was her and me up at the wildest hours to nurse, repeat, sleep, repeat. It felt like we were in our own world learning about each other, figuring this mothering thing out. Nine years later, the challenges are different, as is the support I give. Being a mother has made me more resilient each and every day. Repeat and repeat.

Mami is what I call my daughter; it’s a Hispanic thing. My daughter is everything I want to be. My girl is an artist with paint, paper, clay, beads, canvas, yarn, and glue. I marvel at the beautiful things she creates and with the ease of a wise old soul. She’s musical with instruments and her voice. Her funny faces and laughter light up our home. She creates videos, enjoys animals, and wears fox tails for fun. She cries during movies and loves her friends and family. She’s goofy. She’s serious. She’s uniquely my daughter, and every day I am grateful to watch her find herself. I hope some day she’ll know everything has been for her and always will be.