I stared down at my neon speckled socks and breathed heavily into my mask. My glasses fogged with each breath, distorting my screen as I anxiously scrolled through my phone. I had already startled myself in the bathroom mirror prior to finding a seat in the waiting room. My hair was in a violently created bun and my sweat pants mirrored my glory days as a varsity basketball forward. In short, I looked an absolute mess. It was understandable. It was a little after 1 a.m. and I had had no plans of being at the emergency room in the middle of the night, but alas, here we were.
I sat there hoping I could get my eyelids to get a little heavy, but the anticipation of a doctor's arrival kept me wired. My mind raced from dinner to contingency plans still within the confines of a global pandemic. After the flood of thoughts began to slow, I remember thinking to myself, “Wow, I had no idea that this would be motherhood.”
Mothers are the engines rearing this pending generation, while their own life blooms in the middle of this chapter in history. It’s like writing a story while reading it. Impeccable multitasking is embedded in the job description of motherhood. The job where “showing up” fully is diverse in application and yet, still, all agree is all encompassing.
Children are not as keenly aware of the times we are living, though they undeniably feel shifts and are mentally bookmarking grand changes as they’re happening. Still, depending on the age of the child, they aren’t always developmentally able to grasp all the intricacies. As they grow, we teach facts and perspective to give kids a way to wrestle with who they are, who they will be and how that will affect the world. Mothers are largely that conduit toward their humane outlook and contribution to life. Sometimes it’s just to point out where or who to go to, and sometimes we are the loudest voice along a child’s journey.
This was true as I sat in my nostalgic pajama gear in the ER. I was the masked avenger of their care and health – not because I knew it all or could foretell the future (however, if you’re like me, I swore my mother had superpowers), but because this is what needed to be done for this bit of budding future, for my children. I had no special outfit or gear, despite the attempt of many images through the decades that have tried to capture what it means and looks like to be a mother.
I’m sure you would not find my outfit among most commonly googled images.
But, have you ever googled the word “mother”?
So many images appear from different cities, countries and centuries – from everywhere, and none of them are exactly the same! Images that range from the early 19th-century showing plain clothes with baskets and military skirts, then on to hand mixers, kitten heels, afros, platform shoes and voluminous curls. Fast-forward into thick headbands, windbreakers and then the notorious “mom-jeans.” Island and Afrocentric mothers are pictured with wrapped fabric around their brows and their hips, remedies for the body and mind in arm’s reach.
Latin mothers are captured laboring with passion and tenacity to provide and protect. Specifically, Miami mothers have stories that reach into lands beyond this city and country to till the ground for something more. The word ‘mother’ cannot be captured in a single image or specific attire; it is a myriad expression of loving selflessness and strength. Through many cultures and times you see this common thread. Whether a child is born of the womb, heart or circumstance, the journey of motherhood captures love through the centuries.
Picture this: A child born in the early 1900s in the U.S. would have lived through the immediate effects of the abolishment of slavery, world wars, the influenza epidemic and The Great Depression – all by their 30th birthday. Those effects are keenly felt by those who came to this country to call Miami home. The impact of the world wars met in combination with the weighted hope of immigration, revolution, regime change and oppression. Where is the manual to mother children through all the twists and turns of our world and society? Ask any mother and they will tell you, “I don’t know – but there is a way to make it through!”
So, hats off to Miami mothers paving the way – again.
We celebrate you this year because, once again, time has thrown us some wild curveballs and you have adapted. You have shed tears while you cooked, uploaded handwritten assignments, stayed up from sunset till dawn and unraveled the most confusing moments of this past year. You have made small moments feel epic and found ways to serve others.
We honor the mothers you have mourned, the mothers you remember and the ones you wish you knew. We acknowledge the vows you made to grow from the pain you’ve experienced. And we recognize you in your perfect perseverance – making every flaw an opportunity to rise again. We celebrate you.
Happy Mother’s Day, every day! We wish strength and joy to all women full of beautiful mothering spirits.