This has been the kind of week that tests the hearts of mothers.
On Monday morning, I entered my local movie theater to review 42, where I spent two emotional hours sobbing over how horrible people can be to each other and feeling grateful that my children were growing up in a world where an African-American man was now serving his second term as President of the United States.
When I walked out of the theater and turned on my phone, I was confronted with a deluge of voicemails and texts, with this message from my sister staring me in the face: “Is Sara okay?”
Sara, my daughter, goes to college in Boston and, for whatever reason, my first thought was that it was Marathon Day and something had happened. Although I saw she had left me messages, I immediately called her and was so relieved to simply hear her voice as she told me she was safe but that bombs had gone off at the Marathon and people were dead.
I wanted to reach through the phone and pull her back home. I am 3000 miles away and each mile has never felt so long.
That same evening, my son was flying back from a trip to Ireland. He was on his way to a client meeting in Chicago and was changing planes in Washington, D.C. before ultimately heading back to New York City – all cities considered potential targets.
My son is 23 and my daughter is turning 21. That doesn’t make me worry about them any less.
On Tuesday, I watched Katie, who was interviewing victims and witnesses of the bombings, including runner Rebecca Roche and her mother, Beth, who was in the hospital with severe leg injuries.
What struck me so deeply was when Beth tearfully interrupted her daughter to say, “You know what was sad? What’s sad is that her moment, her dream, was ruined by these people. She worked so long to make this dream come true.” Rebecca looked at her mother and shook her head, disbelieving that this what she was worried about while she had bones sticking out of her leg. But, as a mother, I totally got it.
All we want for our children – universally – is for them to be happy, healthy and safe. And, say what you will, but I’m sure that’s all the mother of these boys – and, yes, they are boys, not men – wanted, too.
Last night, Sara called to tell us that a police officer had been shot and killed at MIT, which meant that, although she sounded okay, I wasn’t going to be getting to sleep any time soon. I went online to learn more, and posted a link to the story on Facebook. The link was shared by Patti Digh, and a mutual friend sent me good wishes, hoping my daughter was far away from what was happening.
Then I got another notification. A true guardian angel came along and sent me a message that made me cry. Melissa Martin – a woman I have never met before – wrote, “Lois, I am here, a few miles north of Boston, in a safe suburb. If she wants/needs a reprieve, please give her my name. She and her friends are welcome to retreat with us.”
When I told her how much this meant to me, she wrote, “Oh, Lois, as the mother of 5 (with two already in college), I cannot imagine how difficult this week must have been for you. I feel that mothers have a universal protectiveness, whether the child is their own or not. I am on call for any of my kids and ‘bonus kids.’ Feel free to reach me anytime.”
You can bet I will be reaching out to meet this remarkable woman next time I’m visiting my daughter in Boston. Meanwhile, her profound message needs to be shared – and heeded. Mothers do have a universal protectiveness, and it’s up to all of us to be on call for all kids, whether they need something to eat, someplace to stay or someone to just listen to them.
I had lunch with my own mom and dad today, and we called Sara together so everyone could hear her voice, even if by that point, she was rolling her eyes.
I shared all my feelings about this week with my parents and told them I felt I had to write something.
“You work so hard,” sighed my mother. “Don’t stay up all night. You need to rest and take care of yourself.”
“Ma,” I whined, closing her car door and waving good-bye.
I shook my head but, inside, I was smiling.
Beautifully said.
Made me cry. Beautiful Lois.
Beautifully written.
Yes, once a mom, always a mom and to anyone who needs a mom! I wish mine was here to “nag” me too! And now I need to text my daughter to take a sweater to her senior banquet so she can send me a frowny face icon in mild disgust of being mothered still at 21!!! : )
“Mothers have a universal protectiveness” thank you I needed to hear that. Beautifully written, thank you.
Also crying- God bless Melissa. I had the same experience with two of my sons during 9/11. I wish I could hug you all- so difficult to fathom and make sense of everything. But you represent the good in the world by your example; reminding us there is hope in sharing and giving back.
Watching the news and it’s now over, but the worry we have for our kids (and all children) never diminishes. So glad Sara is safe.
My dear daughter, Olivia, turned 10 yesterday. After the events of this past week, I am more grateful than ever that I could sit across from her last night and watch her blow out her birthday candles with glee. My heart goes out to those that were killed & injured in the Boston bombing. Thank you, Lois, for your thoughtful reflection.
I am so sorry to hear that you went through this painful time with your daughter. No matter how much we know they are okay- our children never stop being the little ones we cradle and think we can protect. You are a wonderful Mother. Virginia- FirstClassWoman
My daughter was also in Boston, visiting her friends at BU for Marathon Monday. Thankfully she was able to get home on Tuesday with no problem. I cannot imagine what it must have been like to have gone through this week with a child in the city. Hugs to you!
Lois- that was so right on- I am crying like a baby.
I cherish what i have with my 2 boys and this whole week I have had the worst pit it my stomach.
Thanx for sharing your amazing words.
Cheers to moms and their beautiful and loved children!
really beautiful Lois. They’re all in our prayers. Thanks for this message. Am sharing with a friend who also has a child in Boston area. JAZ
On my next birthday, I’m sending flowers to my mom! Thanks to all the moms out there…..
Hi Lois. My heart goes out to you and all of the mothers today who know a special kind of fear… That something might happen to their cf children and all mothers everywhere need to care for all children that they can help. I just wanted to say that it’s not just mothers who want to help. Even women like me, and men who are not fathers, must be willing to help. Many a time, have I grabbed home of or ggently guided a child out of harm’s way without knowing who the child is or we here it’s adult is. Often, the mother is grateful that I stepped in but there are a lot of times the mothers have been offended and pissed off. You know what I think at those times? I would take any “abuse” anyone could hand me as long as I know that kid who had wandered off didn’t get hit by a car or swept up by a bad stranger.
I just posted this because “motherhood” is not necessarily owned entirely by women who have given birth and I believe that often that gets overlooked.
you always, always – without a doubt – wither make me swoon, and or cry. today, both. i adore you lois, you write your life so beautifully.
should read: either, not wither…
Beautiful unconditional love,,the honor of being a mom. I love my new found friends that have this incredible deep rooted understanding of motherhood. I always tell my son and daughter that forever we will be attached in a divine way that started ftom being connected by the unbiblical cord! Thanks for all the great sharing of inner self!