Of course, I think my own mother is the world's best. She has unfailingly supported me in all my endeavors, offered gentle guidance when she thought that the choices I made (especially the romantic kind) were not the best, and was there to help me pick up the pieces when I didn't heed her advice. As I go deeper into this creative life I'm ever-so-slowly building, she's there, offering encouragement. I love and honor my mother deeply, as a mother and as a best friend.
My second mother is my mother-in-law. I want to be like her when I grow up. She is in her mid-80s and volunteers at least 40 hours each week with Olney Help, the hospital, her church. She went down south to help rebuild after Hurricane Katrina and for the last three years, she's gone to either Uruguay or Chile to help rebuild churches. She's not going this year, although I think she wants to. But on the last trip, the people in village didn't let her do the work that she wanted to do (hauling cement and brick, and painting). Instead, they assigned her gentler work, like watching after young children. Family is very important to her and every year she travels to Minnesota to visit her family there, and every year, she rents a house at the Outer Banks for her children and their families. She's the glue that holds us all together.
And my third mother? She is the mother of a dear friend of mine, my Persian sister. She is my Persian mother. I saw her twice about eight or nine years ago and there was a connection that I can't explain. After she returned to Iran, she would always ask about me when she talked to her daughter. And whenever Shirin and I talked, I would always ask about her. She was so devout in her faith that I knew that any prayers she made would be answered. I wanted to knit her a prayer shawl. But I didn't. And now it is too late. My Persian mother passed out of this world last week. I wish I could have seen her one more time before she left. I commend her soul to Allah.
And so ends the tale of the three mothers. I truly am blessed.
