Call out to the moms. This one’s for you. This day, this appreciation, this love. This one’s for you, for being the light in a family, the up-all-night in a family, the fight in a family. This is for you and your multi-dimensional job. The one in which you play milk dispenser, cuddle machine, Uber driver, Top Chef, referee, laundress, plumber, photographer, maid, landscaper, psychologist, dog walker, doctor, cheerleader, homework helper, hand holder, boo-boo kisser, seamstress, provider of dreams, tissues and sunscreen, maker of merry, school lunches and chocolate chip cookies to die for, head of the emotional support team, kisser of tummies, tops of heads and asses when necessary,  supporter of independent thinking, fairness and the Golden rule, president of being a good person, doing for others and giving up everything you have for your brood.

You. Yup, you. The person who had no idea what this gig might entail, but went ahead anyway and now see that it couldn’t have been any other way. You, the one that is always puzzling how to do the right thing, make the best move, model the correct behavior. You, the tired, weary juggler who manages to make it look easy. You, the fearless, the extraordinary, the underappreciated, the one who actually made people inside her body. This day is for you, this awe is for you and your dedication, your tenacity, your muscle man strength, your resilience, and quite simply the world-changing, life-giving love you give. A love that never runs dry continually regenerates, and seeps out of every pore, even when you’re more tired than a person should be allowed to be unless they’re dead. You.

The Swiss Army Knife of people.

The one they call mommy, or mom or mamma. You.

The one the world could not live without.

 

May 4, 2020, We’re still pandemicing. The president is still vomiting blatant lies on the daily and there are people in certain states that are protesting because they want to die, I mean reopen for business. The weather in New England is the stuff we wait for all year, sunny with no humidity, no bugs yet. Pure heaven. It seemed everybody was outside this weekend reminiscing about when life was normal.

The sun helps. Flowers help. And masks help, but it seems only 50% of the people are wearing them. It’s a strange time. I still wake up and wonder if I’m having one of those dreams directed by Ridley Scott that seem so damn real,  you think they are.

The longer this goes on, the more I realize that things will not be anywhere near ok for a long time. What we’re experiencing will continue to haunt us for years to come. How do we cope?

We put one foot in front of the other foot, don our masks, and move forward on whatever new paths we can forge. We hold out the past, but only the good parts, and create new ways of living that might even be better for our earth and our souls. We say thank you regularly, to people who were once looked down upon. We go deeper into ourselves and while we are distanced from those we love, we hang on to them like a dinghy someone throws you in the middle of a raucous sea, when it was clear you were seconds away from drowning. We reinvent, we rediscover, we recalibrate. We get crafty, we become frugal, we laugh more. We listen to the birds, and the dogs, and the scientists We listen to ourselves and the teeny voice inside us that says, “It’s ok, we will be ok.” We stop thinking we will ever be the old normal and start making a new normal, a better normal, a normal that is anything but normal, but in the very best ways.

And we feel gratitude for what we have, not what we don’t have. We will ourselves to begin again and be happy that we can. This is what we do when we dont know what to do. We begin again. This is what we do.