On Being Childless on Mothers' Day

I attended a Mass where the pastor called all the moms to come forward to receive a blessing and a red carnation. The ladies were dressed in their finest and were beaming even at the start of the service, exchanging effusive greetings. I was very happy and cheering them, until the ladies were called to the front where I felt uncomfortable, as if I almost heard the young brother/ monk whisper behind me, "Stand up! Go up!" It was just probably my imagination, but then I could imagine people in the seats wondering why a youngish (okay, not so), wedding-ring-wearing woman like me would be fixed to my seat. I was actually mortified and couldn't even think of glancing around if any other women outside of the young girls would be like me, among the men and monks in the seats. I felt myself crying. I felt embarrassed. I am usually a toughie on this issue. It is not God's time or wil,l or He has other plans for us, which I know is equally fab or has been, or there is a spiritual root to this, or a mortification issue, or that there needs to be closure or clarification, and no, we do not inhibit ourselves from having children, thank you.

The pastor was wise to give one of the leftover flowers to the "matriarch" of the parish--a white-haired single woman who shepherded many kids and families through the years--as she was seated in front. Meanwhile, the nuns, who were in the back, were not readily available. The homilist-priest was so kind to greet everyone Happy Mothers' Day again adding, "Motherhood is not just biological, but also spiritual. And motherhood is a choice. For those who chose to be life-giving in the biological and/ or spiritual ways, thank you." As I was about to leave, the sacristan calls me and greets me "Happy Mothers' Day" and gives me a gleaming blue rosary and a red and pink chaplet. I accept his gift and greeting, as well all the other greetings of women and men that suffused the entire city of Newark it seems, for everyone seems to be carrying bouquets or cakes or gifts to give or have received. Later, I receive a congratulatory message from a priest that had moved, thanking me for the sacrifice I make for my family and friends. But, the best one was my brother, whom I haven't talked in so long, but listened to my sob story. He then said I should never, ever feel an iota of jealousy of those who have more children or better cooks or homemakers. As if reading my mind, "don't be jealous of those who make espasol or bibingka!" for I had visited with a family whose matriarch was a heavy-duty cook in this Filipino specialities. My gifts lay in different acts of service, he said, significant ones too, and in those acts, I help the small and the elderly. "Heck, you are even a mom to the older folks when you tell them what to do," then adds, "Some of them have a mind of a twenty year-old anyway."

Do not be troubled, Jesus said in the Gospel today. Even though there were wonderful allusions to feeding, hospitality and "dwelling places" in all the Mass readings, in the end, spiritual mothering and nurturing is extremely vital too. I laughed with my brother. I am blessed. I toast to all mothers--with all types of children. Since I notice that every woman is greeted "Happy Mother's Day" in the streets, it seems just very appropriate.