A Day for Mothers

It seems a bit odd to have a day to celebrate something that just is.  Motherhood.  I am a mother.  I've managed to work that much out. There is no day to celebrate being a girl though.  There is no wives day. I don't get to celebrate being 5' 10" with green eyes.  All of a sudden, for the first time I take a deep breath and things have changed.  My vision has changed.  My heart has changed.  My body has... let's be honest, I was kidnapped by aliens and they stole my old body, which I will never see again.  Somehow I am still me albeit I have chemically and physically changed.  I try to think of what it means.  I think of my own mom and all the moms that made my life and momness possible. But it all seems laced with silliness.  Mother?  What does that really mean?  I am still just me, doing my best. Do we reward other existence? As a mom the prize is that little grin that greets me in the morning, the little fingers that clutch mine for a moment saying I want to keep you close, or the precious accidental "ma" after a long cry which shatters you into a million pieces because you haven't solved all the problems in the world for the pure preciousness you are responsible for.  Time has shifted.  I exist on another plane of consciousness.  I can't explain it.  How my body aches to be close to her after a few hours of night have passed.  How I would sacrifice everything to give her opportunity. How the days pass at a different speed while we talk and play and exist together in a love that changes how my eyes function and my heart beats.  All this intense change seems so naturally odd though.  It is simply the next step.  Rather than finding out who she is, I find out who I am.  I discover what I am made of and what I am worth.  My prize is joy and knowing God with a kind of intimacy unattainable before.  The strangest part is that all the mothers I've known have kept this a secret from me! Silly mothers. What else waits to be uncovered?