Funny how on Mother's Day, I just want a break from being one. Josh has been out of town all week, and has been working long hours lately. So although I heart being a mommy, it's lovely to have a little break every now and then.
Saturday I took the boys to see the new documentary African Cats. I used to never cry at movies. But now all it takes is a birthday card at Target to get me started. Pathetic!
These cats though! What a great illustration of a mother's love. Their instinct to protect their babies from harm is fascinating. The same thing is inside me, so strong.
Of course I would be sadder than anything to leave this beautiful earth, but the thought of leaving my dependent boys is the one I can't cope with.
And that is the trick when a mom has cancer. Mothers wipe away tears, not create them. It is exactly opposite of our intentions.
We do everything we can to avoid giving our kids 'issues'. Potty train them at the perfect age. Talk about food in just the right way. React just so when they get hurt. Strike the right balance between work and play. Intervene just enough during fights. Give them the right amount. Keep our expectations at the right level. Etc, etc. And even though we aren't perfect at these things, dang it, we give it our best.
Give them issues? I've really got the potential to now. Die before they are old enough to make it on their own. Yuck, yuck, yuck.
As I watched the cats care for their cubs, I thought about my sister. Which is a whole different circle of thoughts that is hard to get out of. This week they will remove part her son's leg as a step in his cancer treatment. Really? Cancer in your child? How do you wrap your heart around that one?
I want to stay up all night, perfectly still, and waiting in the grass, and plan my perfect attack, and execute. I want to chase you down, and roar and hiss, and claw, and rip whatever keeps you alive out, with my own canines, and drink your blood in one furious gulp. Cause guess what? You are in my territory. And there are kids in the burrow behind me. And every instinct of movement I was born with is perfected by knowing they are there. And every muscle I have moves for your death. I don't care how big or small you are, I hunt and wrestle you to the ground. Strew your best parts all over the grasses, and eat them before they get cold.
A mother's love is desperate, and powerful, and perfect. It motivates me everyday to be strong. There is nothing I wouldn't do for my boys. And right now they need a mom who wakes up with a smile on her face, and gets them off the school, and reads with them, and cleans their clothes, and makes their dinner, and remembers their homework, and drives them to scouts, and laughs at their jokes.
But this is easy, I want a fight. ROARRRR!!!!