Stand by me

Sherri T.

Words of Our Mothers (WOOM) is a series of blogs about the power of wise words spoken by the special women in our lives: our mothers, grandmothers, sisters, aunts, cousins and friends.  The special women in our lives also provide another gift: their presence.

 I have been overwhelmed by the number of readers who have made reference to their mother’s presence, whether she is still alive or not. 

 My friend Cathy told me the story about a most meaningful memory. It was both simple and symbolic.

 Cathy was describing her hectic life as a young woman. Work by day, study by night. She attended evening classes at a local university. The route home involved a long, late-night bus trip.

 Every school night, her mother stood by the window, watching and waiting for Cathy’s safe return. The vigilant vigil. Watching and waiting. Waiting and watching. Until she was safely home.

 The arrival was just the first step. Every school night at 11:00 pm, Cathy’s mother prepared and served her a hot homemade meal.

 The food was warm and comforting. Even more warm and comforting was the presence of her mother. 

 Cathy told me that she always felt guilty for keeping her mother awake so late. At the same time, she felt wonderful that her mother was there. Just for her. 

 Her mother’s constant presence was a powerful message. In this case, few words were spoken.  But her presence spoke volumes. Loudly and clearly.

 My friend Janet told a different story. But it had a similar meaning.

 Janet was coping with very tough family circumstances. One day, she was feeling particularly bleak and hopeless. How appropriate that it was raining equally hard outside.

 Heavy rain. Heavy heart. 

 As she peered out the window through her tears and the downpour, she saw her mother’s face appear in the window. Janet said that she “heard” the message in her mothers’ eyes.  

 Be strong. You will make it through this. You are not alone. 

 No words were spoken.

 Cathy and Janet share a common bond. Their strength came not from the prose of their mother but from her presence, which spoke volumes. Loudly and clearly.