A MOTHER'S JOB IS NEVER DONE!

By Vernalee

Conducting an experiment, a well-known advertising agency placed an online ad for a Director of Operations. Although it received over 2.7 million hits, only 24 applications were received.

The job description, though brief, read in part: Have to stand all day; work at least 135 hours a week; little or no sitting; requires considerable mobility; ability to lift at least 75 pounds; ability to proficiently multitask; receives no vacation or days off; receives no compensation or bonus pay.” Several applicants unanimously said, “This is ludicrous!”

They laughed and asked, “Who would do a job like that? Is this legal?”

These tasks and more are performed by Mothers everyday – rain or shine!

Notwithstanding the referenced functions, add in a 40 hour plus work week to the existing responsibilities.

Being a chef, a chauffeur, a seamstress, a ”doctor,” a housekeeper, and so much more – come with this sacred maternal territory.

Growing up, I always thought that my late Mother was a magician. She could pop up anywhere, anytime - out of no where! She always knew where I was (without me telling her); what I was doing (even when I was up to no good); what I was thinking (she could read my mind); when I was lying or telling the truth (before I uttered a word) ... and my every move (physically, mentally, and emotionally)! I never figured it out, but I recognized that it was hard if not impossible to fool that woman! When I was a little girl, her lips were medicinal as she could kiss the pain away. When I became an adult, her advice was golden. There was nothing that she had not experienced or knew about. Nothing beats a Mother’s wisdom!

Yes, it is true. I became wiser as I aged. I didn’t know this during my adolescent years, but I finally realized that a Mother's job is never done.

As Mothers, we work 24/7; around the clock everyday of the week; every month of the year. When we are not tending to our families, we are “on call,” or thinking about them!

In fact, interestingly enough, the duties of motherhood never leave. They stay even when our children leave our nest. Our motherly love, concern, worry, joy, and all of our emotions travel with them, but shift as our children move from our laps to our hearts! Our minds remain focused on our children as we are always concerned about their wellbeing.

Being a Mother is a huge responsibility. As Mothers, we get tired; worn out; and have sleepless nights. However through it all, the privilege of motherhood is an honor that brings incredible love, happiness, and joy.

Who could ask for anything more! Photo reprint: www.organicbabyatlanta.com;

GRANDMA'S HANDS

Our hands – the crinkled skin, the lines, the wrinkles, the visible protruding veins – show our age. They display the “wear and tear” of living. As we age, our hands carry with it years of wisdom, love, heartbreak, pain, joy, and every physical and emotional feeling. They celebrate life. My late Mother’s hands functioned as a Mother, grandmother, a great grandmother, and a great – great grandmother. Four generations, she lifted. She was our family’s matriarch; an extraordinary strong colored woman, and when she was alive, we rallied around her in groves. Her arthritic hands prepared dishes that no one can duplicate. Her fried chicken, pound cake, sweet potato pie, and dumplings were so tasty that you would lick the bowl. Cooking was her thing! Everyone wanted her recipes.

There was so much that the lines in her helping hands told us and so much that they didn't reveal!

To make ends meet, her hands with hard callouses once picked 200 pounds of cotton a day in the scorching Mississippi fields. Those hands cooked meals in White folks' kitchens and came home and cooked in hers. Those hands made a way out of no way to feed and educate three children. As she aged, those hands noticeably trembled as she gripped the skillet to make sure that she cooked everyone's favorite dish. Yes, those old tired wrinkled hands gave my family and me so much love, courage, and strength. We respected those hands and would not dare cross her because her strong hands, even in her 90's would discipline you with a back hand lick! Whether we called her Momma, Grandma, or Big Mama (depending on the generation), her hands carried and lifted us as we shared with her the weight of our problems seeking her wisdom and advice. We couldn't wait to talk to her. Since she didn't judge (which was why she was so effective), we shared even the intimate and crazy details of our life; all of us! Her advice always made our crooked road straight. I don't know how she did it! Clearly, she was our Dr. Phil though she never step foot in a college. Never too busy, she listened; she advised. Although her hands had seen so many hard times; many stories that would make your hair raise, what amazing strength and wonderful touch her soft hands had! She encouraged us and said, “Your weight ain’t that heavy. I can hold it. Now sit down, hold my hand, and tell Big Mama all about it!” And we did! And she listened! And she prayed with us. And we left better than we came! Yes, we were blessed to have her! We were blessed to be held by such strong hands that never let us down. We are now blessed to carry the torch of her memories; her God centered advice. Here again, I don't know how it happened, but she miraculously through her wrinkled old hands planted in the crevices of our hearts ... everlasting remnants of what she taught us! Photo credit: www.crossroadsusa.org

https://youtu.be/qv5pagal-ls

OUR CHILDREN MOVE FROM OUR LAPS TO OUR HEARTS

I have heard it more than once; hundreds of times to be exact. “Black women raise their daughters and love their sons.” There are statistics that are used to add credence of sorts. It is felt that the hardest thing in the world is to be a Black man. They are singled out and jailed more than any. Some feel that Black Mothers from the days of slavery empathized with the boy child because of the blatant and abusive cruelty that he suffered and in her attempt to shield him, (remember Willie Lynch) the parenting slacked. No Mother wants to see harm come to her children to prove a point or appease another’s ego. The White masters tortured male slaves before their Black Mothers’ eyes. Naturally, this had an impact when the choices were either submission or be tortured, killed, or sold. The hands of slavery were not kind to our daughters either. The color shades of our race today bear witness to that fact. What cruelty! Such a tragedy! The remnants of our past lies in our modern souls. Mothers are nurturing. We are taught to love, guide, and protect our little ones. Bringing this up to modern times, I question this hypothesis – of loving our sons raising our daughters – as it relates to me. As I am a Mother of two adult children – a son and a daughter, I have always valued my role. Being called “Mommy” is the best title ever! I can become so enamored hearing the word “Mommy” that goose bumps appear sometimes. I am honored to be a Mother of two wonderful, loving, adorable kids. Am I boasting? Of course, I am! Anyway, I feel that I reared and love them the same. Of course, that is me; judging myself. Right? I disciplined them equally; rewarded them similarly; showered them with mountainous love and affection. Both were taught to love the Lord, respect authority / people, honor their elders, be caring, and all of the other southern rudimentary guidance / direction that I passed along pertaining to character, values, leadership, morals, responsibility, etc. As Mothers, we want our sons to respect and love the women in their lives and not abuse their authority. We want our sons to be good Fathers. Their leadership is important. It is no different for our daughters. We want them to be loving and respectful. We do not want them to be abused or disrespected as women. The key to success is for men to treat women as they would want someone to treat their Mother, sisters, or daughters. Bingo! As parents, we only hope and pray that our foundation was as solid as a rock and that they will remember the lessons taught. In raising and loving both of my now big little ones, I trust that they will continue to be good responsible people. When they go from our laps to our hearts, we pray that God’s grace and protection will travel with them and shield them. When our little boys and girls become adult men and women respectively, we can only hope that they will cushion the lessons of the heart. We want good children – sons and daughters. What a blessing they are and their goodness is! “Job well done” is music to our ears as parents! Photo credit: www.piniterest.com