I always had trouble with essays like this. I could never really grasp the idea of having a “hero,” nor did I feel particularly inspired through school.
Having been an uncomfortable child, I had a lot of growing up to do in my twenties and thirties. The world felt demanding and hostile to me for a long time. When I moved to New York City, almost 30 years old, I met my friend Anita. She taught me to trust and love God. It’s kind of that simple so I won’t go on about that here. But now, having learned from her–having been inspired to look at things differently and wholly–I see the world as a connected, good place that needs healing.
I am inspired by people every day–many of them, women; some of them, moms. I am moved by all the moms I know that work so hard to make life good for their families. They are similar and different in every way. I call upon their stories when I need encouragement. I call some of them daily. I send them tweets and texts and I read their stories. I am blessed to be part of their club: the moms that work at home, that work in offices, that homeschool their kids, that stay at home with toddlers every day; the moms that have choices and the moms that don’t. I think of the moms that work two jobs, are single parents, are trying to keep their kids from the dangers of their neighborhoods and schools. The moms at home while their husbands are at war. The moms at war.
I am awed and profoundly humbled. I say this sincerely: I couldn’t do a harder job than I do now. I don’t know how the moms with more challenges than I keep doing it, keep fighting, keep hoping and keep inspiring.
I have three mothers. My father’s wife is a world traveler, even with painful physical difficulties. She never stops. She takes every ounce of happy available in a given day and shares it with her friends and family. My mother-in-law laughs at life with love and defiance. She cooks fabulous Italian food and amazes me with her ability to roll with what is given.
I talk about my own mom often. Her intelligence is surpassed only by her ability to befriend and comfort people. We look alike. She is stronger than she knows and more admired than I could ever share with her.
This wasn’t where I thought I was going. I guess the essay was here all along.
This post is for a link up with Lauren Nicole Gifts. Check it out.