I’m a mom. I know the tug of the umbilical cord from birth until giving each baby away to love and cherish another.
I’m a grandma, and I recognize the family units that must even take precedence above my own, and I widen my heart to add another to the family. I’m a great-grandma, and my heart seems to expand again. Through the years of this blog site, I’ve poured out thoughts about Mother’s Day from so many different views and positions.
It’s kind of funny, this long-standing-open-my-heart-up-to-you-all, blog I’ve had for eons now. And sometimes, when I sit down to write a new one, old ones just kind of happen. It’s almost Mother’s Day again. I’ve written a whole lotta Mother’s Day posts.
But today, I remember my own Mother, and my favorite and perhaps most tender post from my heart about her heart. I still love her dearly and aspire to being half the best Mom in all the world she was to me. With gratitude, The Day Mom Forgot Me.
“Where do you live?” she asked. Wind whipped her white curls into a crown around her head against a blur of golden wheat fields as we sailed along the dirt road.
I glanced her way. She sat slightly hunched in the passenger seat. We’d been catching up while I drove. Two long years had passed. I returned home to a widowed mom, visibly aged and mourning the loss of a husband and father we both loved.
“She gets confused sometimes,” my brothers told me.
And I smiled. Mom always got confused. That was just mom.
“What was I getting?” she’d wonder as she walked from room to room.
“What was I saying?” she’d stop midstream.
“Why did I call you?” she’d ask when we stood before her.
That was mom. Slightly distracted, but oh so perfect. Softly plump, with a contagious laugh. She listened intently and asked questions with such engagement as if nothing mattered more than the child in front of her. Not even the burning chicken on the stove.
“This is different,” they warned.
Mourning for dad had never seemed complete overseas. I was too detached from its reality, and perhaps she needed me in some way too, I thought dismissing their words.
I felt incomplete without that connection of loss shared with her. I needed to feel her warmth and sweetness.
Now I was home again, and she was next to me as I drove through the Kansas flatlands. We laughed and talked until I felt a change come over her. She became quiet and glanced at me sideways.
“Where do you live?” she asked.
I laughed a little, but an uncomfortable twist came inside my stomach. She’s got it on the tip of her tongue, I thought.
“Italy, Mom.”
“Oh Italy!” delight filled her demeanor. With a huge smile she turned toward me. “I have a daughter who lives there. Do you know her?”
“When my father and my mother forsake me, Then the Lord will take care of me.” Psalm 27:10 NKJV
The verse began a sing-song in my head. “When my father and my mother forsake me…When my father and my mother forsake…when my father and my mother…”
I resolutely kept my eyes ahead with my hands on the wheel, willing the question to go away.
“Do you know her?” she prodded.
“When my father and my mother forsake me…”
Mother’s Day is a day designated to honor the one who bore us. It brings pain to some. It renews gratefulness and joy for others. It acknowledges sacrifices and hard work. For those of us who have precious memories, a Mom’s love is just a droplet in the ocean of God’s love. For those on this day who wish for a different backstory, God’s care will still triumph.
Because a Mom’s love is just a droplet in the ocean of God’s love.
Mom waited, staring my way, not knowing me. With all my heart I wished her to stop, pretend she hadn’t asked it and for the conversation to end. I wanted to get back to our old farmhouse, find my husband and cry into his broad chest.The Day Mom Forgot Me Share on X
“My daughter Sylvia,” her voice became petulant, like a child’s plea. “She lives there too.”
Desperate to spare her, but knowing I couldn’t ignore the question any longer, I turned my face from the road and looked at those hazel eyes, clouded, lost and confused.
“…Then the Lord will take care of me.”
“Mom, I’m Sylvia.”
I saw the sudden recognition, hurt and pain. I saw how devastating it was for a mom to forget. And I knew that however deep a mother or her child’s anguish, God’s eternal care and remembrance far exceeds this parental shadow of His love.
“…Then the Lord will take care of me.”
There may come a day when the scene is repeated. When I will forget. And if that happens, may God the Father leave behind this certainty for those after me.
“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! Isaiah 49:15 NIV
He remembers you.
Marcy Giesbrecht
No words, just love! 🩷 🫂 🙏
Sylvia schroeder
Thanks Marcy! And Happy Mother’s Day!
Gina Castell
That is the scripture I gave to my son. He is adopted. His name is Matthew. He needs salvation. Thank you for the story about your mom. ❤️ G
Sylvia schroeder
Thank you Gina. Stopping to pray for Matthew now!
Meredith
Thank you❤️. There are hours mom remembers me but most of the time I am her sister Judy who is “two years older than her.”😉
Sylvia schroeder
Meridth, My mom often thought I was her sister Irma! May Jesus walk this journey with both you and your mother!
Brenda Griswold
I feel like one day I will be the one forgetting. I pray at those moments, “Lord, just don’t let me forget you!”
Sylvia Schroeder
Amen!! Thank you Brenda.
Sharon Cianci-Scott
Oh dear friend I remember when you returned from furlough and told me this….was so so sad. Sending you much love as you, a wonderful mom are celebrated!
Sylvia Schroeder
So sweet to hear from you Sharon. You were always a dear friend in those long ago days. Miss you.
Don Pahl
Nearly every adult child of an aging parent can relate, Sylvia. Thanks for reminding us!
Psalm 71:18 “So even to old age and gray hairs O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come.”
Sylvia Schroeder
Thank you Don. I love that verse from Psalm 71. Keep proclaiming!
Kim
Those days are hard, but I don’t regret them. Always wondered what Mom was thinking behind those eyes that looked so lost.
Sylvia Schroeder
Yes. I remember thinking that too as I looked into my mom’s eyes. Thanks Kim.
Tony Vanderlaan
Thanks Sylvia”
I lost my Mom while I was serving on the Mission field as well. It is hard when you do not get a chance to say goodbye. Our reunion in heaven will be so sweet.
Sylvia Schroeder
Tony, thanks for serving Jesus through those good-byes. Those were difficult days, but it was such a comfort to know I would see both my dad and mom again.
Katherine Pasour
Such a tender, painful story. In her heart, where it counts, she knew you, I think. When you unite in heaven, there will be no question, I believe. I think we’ll know all our loved ones.