The Measure of a Mother

This past year I have been immersed in my daughter's wedding planning. From the moment she became engaged, I was on my way. It started with the engagement party and the next ten months were filled with all manner of bustle and planning.

My daughter chose a destination wedding at a resort in the Caribbean. On top of the bridal shower I was hosting, helping her with her nuptial preparations for a wedding at a resort complete with 42 traveling family members and friends, I had to plan a major trip out of the country for my own household. It was a "to do".

All along the way, and when I would grouse or fuss about some detail, I would say...I have to get this right...it's my measure as a mother.

My measure as a mother. I felt it so important to pull off whatever I was responsible for with all of the grace and aplomb I could muster. Each undertaking, each decision was predicated on my notion of elegant perfection as it related to the bride. Simply stated...I wanted her to have the very best. My very best.

A lot was going on for me during those ten months. A lot of life was happening. I underwent a major and unexpected job change, a decision that was made for me and left me with no choice but to accept it all. I was dealing with my dad's illness and the toll it was taking on my mother. I was also suffering a lot of loss in my life, deep financial stress, my precious husband's increasing absences and practically raising a teenager by myself.

Then, a mere four weeks before the bridal shower my father passed away. It was a devastating blow and while the entire family struggled with the loss, it cut me to the heart in a very personal way. I lost my safe place.

In the days leading up to the shower I was frantic to be sure I had done my best, distracted and stressed, I kept myself in check by reminding myself...this is your measure as a mother. The same went for the time preceding the wedding. Each detail I helped with, each task given, I pushed all that was dragging at me out of mind and focused on giving her my best. Still I worried...had I done enough? Had I forgotten something important?

It wasn't until the morning of the wedding that I realized that I had done the best job any mother could ever do. Sometime during the night my daughter had slipped something under our door... a note addressed to me and one to her father. I sat on a chair near the open glass doors to the patio, warm Caribbean sun on my skin, the sounds and smells of the sand and surf for company and I read her beautiful words. Tears falling unabashed and uninhibited I read,

...When I was a little girl I wanted to be just like you. I saw that being smart and strong could make any dream come true.

And … I learned that my value in this world is more than looks and beauty...

And ...you showed me through example, the most valuable lesson, to always trust myself no matter what life may bring...

And finally … I will see you sitting and waiting for Dad to walk me down the aisle. I will realize that I am proud to be just like you as I hold you in my heart while all of my dreams come true.

That's my measure as a mother. Not the flawless planning, not themes and table arrangements, not perfect parties and happy guests. Not silly white Jordan almonds in white silk bags. My measure as a mother was realized in this wondrous creature who may not know it yet ... but is so much more than I will ever be in this life. For that I am most proud.

My measure as a mother indeed.