It must be hard to be a mother.
At least, that is how it looks to an outsider who observed his mother (a mother of three sons), and my wife, the mother of four plus one (three sons, one daughter, with an extra son).
Some time in high school, I stopped telling my mom about my life. She worried.
One of my sons (and my daughter until recently) was a bit like that. My wife worried.
Another son and our extra son tell nearly everything about their lives, and my wife worries.
I like to do things that some people think are dangerous and my wife worries that my children will lose their father.
We found out several years ago that I have a health problem, and my wife worries.
She worries about our kids, their
- futures
- relationships with their parents
- relationships with one another
- relationships with others
- potential spouses and future marriages
- faith
- choices
- political views
- financial stability
- and a host of other things.
She worries that
- she did too little and gave them too much freedom
- she did too much and was over protective
- she did not spend enough time with them
- the occasional turbulence in our marriage scarred them for life (She loves peace and absence of conflict, and too often I have been a source of conflict in our marriage, and especially with our kids.)
- we did not do enough to establish their faith.
I do not know if all women are prone to worry, but these two are. Maybe the curse from the garden goes beyond the birth event to the emotional travail of rearing and caring for children.
I suspect they worry because of their great love for their kids, and out of concern for their personal inadequacy to meet their children's needs.
My wife seldom recognizes
- what a wonderful mother she has been
- how much the kids appreciate the time she gave them
- how strongly they understand that she loves them unconditionally
- how she has been the fabric that holds our marriage and family together
My beautiful bride and precious mother of our children, I love you with all my heart.
Faithfully yours,
Clay
