Motherless Mommies

Abigail Tucker wrote a piece on how the presence of one's mother is invaluable while mothering, even citing a number of studies how the lack of a maternal Babi can be detrimental, and her presence to be beneficial. 

Until I had read that article, I thought I was doing ok. Not only have I been grappling with babies since I was a tween, I was also heavily exposed to Ma's many opinions on the matter. Additionally, if I need to ask a mommy about why Ben is suddenly not sleeping, I have a sister and sister-in-laws' to interrogate, which I do. 

But this piece seemed to be insisting that I need Ma's presence, that her support is vital. Well duh, I would prefer to have her around, but it's not like I have a choice, right? 

Apparently, another reader had that same thought, a woman who wrote a book about grandmotherless mothering, and her letter insisted that such mothers do a quite fine job, thank you very much. 

It was probably not Tucker's intent to make the motherless moms feel sucky, but to rather invite mothers to become closer with their own mothers, to see them as a help instead of a hindrance. But she indirectly jabbed those who do not have their own mommies to help. 

Then I read a heartbreaking Modern Love by Genevieve Kingston, who's mother died before she turned 12. Her mother had been sick since her daughter was 7, and when the prognosis turned terrible, she began to prepare. She purchased and wrapped birthday presents for the next decade, as well as leaving letters brimming with assistance for major milestones. 

So Kingston's mother was still a part of her life, long after she died. When her father suddenly passed ten years after her mother, he was not able to leave any advice, no words of guidance, and she found the silence jarring compared to her mother's written legacy. 

Ma was a woman of lots of advice. She always (well, nearly always) knew what to do. She was also a woman of action. She took care of things. 

Is it ironic to say that in retrospect, it was a blessing that I was single until my 30s, that I lived at home with her and was able to spend so much time with her, until the end? That yes, she was my best friend, but that she also—unknowingly—prepared me for a life without her, when I would have to be the one giving advice and doing the action. 

"Sholet," Ma would say, a Hungarian saying that means, in essence, "If you look back, you turn to salt" (Lot's wife, you get it?). If I spent my time focusing on the fact there is no Ma and it's not fair and why can't I talk to her and I need her support—I can't be an effective mother that way. 

Sure, there are times when I wallow. But Ben smiles at me winningly and I summon a smile back, and I know I am enough for him.