Random Mom Moment

Moms do get noticed.

It may not seem that way most days. At least, not as recognition from the very people we serve, our children. Yet this is what I want all of my friends to know this Mother's Day:

I notice you. I appreciate your example. As you go about your days trying to be patient and loving, you may never know the inspiration you leave in your wake.

To wit:

The summer after my high school graduation I had the great opportunity to visit my Aunt Susan and Uncle Bryan while they were in Germany. It was a grand adventure (one that my mother, who had never been to Europe herself, graciously allowed me to have).

My flight home was from Frankfurt to Orlando, then on to Salt Lake City. The flight from Frankfurt was delayed, and all its passengers were shepherded into a holding room. Since we had already gone through customs we were not allowed back into the general airport area.

The holding room was uncomfortable, hot, filled with smoke and the bad vibe of impatience. I noticed a mother traveling with three children ages, 7, 4 and a baby. The 4-year-old girl needed to use the bathroom; the mother got permission from officials to take that child out, but what was she to do with the others?

I offered to sit with her son and baby, and watch her baggage. She looked at me dubiously. I don't think it was because she thought I was risky, just that she was surprised to have anyone offer -- at least that's what I hope fueled her hesitation. "It's OK," I said, "I have a 7-year-old brother at home." That did it. She sighed a half smile and went on her errand. What else could she do?

Jeremy and I played card games until his mother came back, visibly relaxed. I was traveling alone and it was good to interact with someone. The family had been visiting her parents in Switzerland and were flying back home to Florida, where dad had returned a week earlier for work. We parted when we boarded the plane.

And there, for me, came the formative scene. The baby cried for much of that 14-hour flight, and the mother paced up and down the aisle with her, trying to soothe her. Instead of frustration, instead of anger, instead of defeat, that mother's face showed peace. She was serene. Absolutely tranquil. She was focused on one thing and one thing only: comforting her daughter, and because she attempted it in such an unrattled way, the fellow passengers who could have been bothered by the noise were also warmed by her sense of calm.

Jeremy waved to me at Orlando's customs. I waved back. If I had known how much I would draw from this memory as a mom myself, I would have left my place in line to thank his mother.

Moms, we notice.

To my mother-in-law, thank you for raising my husband. To my mother, thank you for giving me the confidence to raise my own children, and for continually building me up. I love you both.

Happy Mother's Day!