I cannot recall the first time she whispered “I love you”
you in my ear, nor can I remember the first time she cradled me. I am unable to
place the exact moment when she reached for my hand or how she stretched out
her arms when I took my first steps. Those definitive memories may not be recalled,
but they are felt.
My mom—especially if you know her, epitomizes what I deem the “unspoken mother.” As
a young girl, I recognized her ability to be present without letting it be
known. She was the presence I felt when I couldn’t see her through the blinding
stage lights. She was the applause that I couldn’t necessarily distinguish from
the crowd, yet I knew she was the most proud. She was the peaceful voice inside
my head when I felt scared, alone or abandoned. She was the reassurance that
needed not a word, but only an embrace.
My mother never sought perfection. She didn’t seek the approval
of other “moms” or waste her time on judgment. She was just herself. And by being so, she embodies
the grace and humility that I only wish to obtain in a lifetime. I can’t recall
her telling us how tired she was, how many times she unloaded the dishwasher or
how many loads of laundry she folded while we were tucked away in bed. She didn’t
do things for recognition---not then and certainly
not now. You will never find her rehashing all the sacrifices she made for
me or my siblings. Instead she has continued to amaze me with her ability to remain
“unspoken” about the past, present and future.
Rather than recognition or praise, she seeks meaningful
conversation, being present for her grandsons and graciously providing support
to others. I have and never will meet one like her, let alone be lucky enough
to call her my mother.
Thank you for being “unspoken.”
I love you.