A little more than seven years ago, I married a woman who was raising two children. Our marriage gave her one more. That woman has asked me many times, “Why do you love me?”
An important reason is that she is such a wonderful mother. She loves her children; she aches for them; she fights hard for their best interest in a world that is often cruel. Before I came to love this woman, she was something of a hero to me. As a single mother, she worked hard to build a life for her girls. She often took the more difficult, riskier road because it held the potential for a better future. She grabbed hold of opportunities I would have been afraid to pursue.
This woman is more than just a mother to her daughters. She became a mother to my son. In fact, she is a mother to every child. She could never turn her back on any one of the world’s children. Our home is filled with kids because she encourages them and loves them and welcomes them. (I think, on the other hand, that all kids should be shipped to an island in the middle of the Pacific until they turn at least 25.) If I want to find my wife in a crowded room, I look for the kids.
This woman is a spectacularly wonderful mother, despite her doubts. She will make an excellent grandmother. That’s why I love her.
Happy Mother’s Day, Granny!