The Invisible Mother

I received this email from my aunt who has provided wonderful conversation and insight to motherhood. Her experience with 4 girls (including one set of twins) has proven probably more then she even realizes to be very helpful as I am still pretty new to this mommy business.

Here is to Aunt "K" for all her love and support and to all the Invisible Mothers out there, I hope this is just what you need:)

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The Invisible Mother......

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way
one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be
taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'
Obviously, not.

No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or
even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands,
nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? & Can you open this?

Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock
to ask, 'What time is it?'; I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number
is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a
friend from England .
Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and
on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at
the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel
sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me
with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe ..
I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:

'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building
when no one sees.'

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would
discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I
could pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their
names.
These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see
finished.
They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.

The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God
saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the
cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird
on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you
spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by
the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God
sees.'

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost
as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte . I see the
sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of
kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is
too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great
cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction.. But it is not a disease
that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own
self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one
of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to
work on something that their name will never be on.

When I really think about it, I don't want my daughter to tell the friend
she's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in
the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for
three hours and presses all the linens for the table..' That would mean I'd
built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want her to want to come
home. And then, if there is anything more to say to her friend, to add,
'you're gonna love it there.'

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot see if we're doing
it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not
only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the
world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Great Jo b, MOM!