My mother was three years old when the ambulance came to her home and wheeled her mother out on a stretcher never to return. Luigia died at age 36 leaving her husband, Atilio, daughter, Monica (my mom) and son, Orlando. It was 1934. Work was hard to find and so was care for two children. An impossible decision needed to be made if they were to have a future together as a family. My Grandfather had to separate his children for care so he could work. My mother lived with relatives in a very unwelcoming, abusive home for two years. How would he reunite his family if he did not have care for his children? At that time, he was advised to write a letter of proposal to a woman who was familiar to him through family connections and available - she agreed to the arrangement. They were married in 1936. Mom and her brother returned home to their dad’s wedding and a stepmom at the tender age of 7.
“ “if you are going to err, err on the side of Love for you can never love too much.””
The year mom turned 36 she was fearful that she too would die. My mother had no understanding of why her mother left her, or why she died. As she grew, she would ask neighbors and relatives what happened to her mother... What was she like? Stories were shared but mom went to her grave not knowing the reason for her mother’s death. Mom’s searching opened her heart to God. I’m not sure when exactly this happened but I witnessed its power. She thrived on relationships: creating them, building and growing them, resuscitating them when they were being smothered or healing them when they were broken. Mom was a heart-to-heart caregiver, nurturer and worker bee. She was strong minded and fierce in her advocacy for the most life-giving path no matter what the situation. Mom could also be stubborn and make mistakes. It was tough for mom to forgive. The pain was often quite deep but with God’s help she got there. Often, she shared her healing journey with me. She became very fond of a phrase she lived, “let go and let God…Trust”. She also advised often, “if you are going to err, err on the side of Love for you can never love too much.” As Mom aged, she always did her best to be present at our gatherings as family. I couldn’t help but notice her stance of quiet gentle awareness. Her peace and joy came from a deep sense of knowing there was something greater at work among us…it was as if she was holding in her heart a constant vigil of Love drawn from the source of Great Love.
There is a richness in my mom’s story that is full of desire to live in God and allow God to live in her. My mother’s story matters greatly to me. It informs my heart and soul… I need to pray it, listen to it, learn from it, and allow it to grow in me, transform me, open me to the possibilities of the life I have yet to live. Her life was and is God’s precious gift to me. My cup overflows.
On this Mother’s Day, I celebrate and give thanks for my mother and all the mothers who help us continue to create the landscape of our lives. I celebrate and give thanks to all the “other-mothers” who come in the form of teachers, spiritual guides, mentors, aunts, sisters, grandmothers, for all mothers and other-mothers who carry unbearable suffering due to war, disease, famine, racism, crime, homophobia… To all mothers and “other-mothers” may God bless and keep us forever.
Little did I know that when I became a mother that I would fall deeper into Love and stay in love my whole life. I end with the words attributed to Pedro Arrupe, sj.
-Linda Mooney, Associate
Image: Markus Winkler/Unsplash