The Luckiest Woman on Earth

There is nothing in all this world as sweet as the way a little boy loves his mommy.

I am the lucky woman who's experienced little boy love times five, as the mother of five sons.  Yet so often over the years, onlookers, unaware of the avalanche of blessings God had bestowed upon me when He chose me to be the mother of all those wonderful boys, didn't seem to get that I didn't feel I'd been somehow shortchanged as a mother.  I thought I was living the life of Riley, I really did.  But if I had a nickel for every time a fellow mom sympathetically shook her head when contemplating this great "tragedy" that had befallen me, because I had given birth to only male children, I would be a rich woman today.  I was subjected to many thoughtless negative comments about my adorably scruffy and mud-stained team of little men: "Poor you!  No girls?"  "God bless you!"  "Better you than me!"  " Are you going to keep trying for your girl?"  "You must be a saint!"

Well I'm not a saint--not even close.  And I'm not a rich woman by Wall Street standards.  But I'll tell you what kind of woman I am: I'm the luckiest woman on earth, that's who.

When you have a son, you are his best girl, the most important woman in his life, until he meets the lucky woman with whom he will be joined in marriage and raise a family of his own, the woman with whom he will grow old.  You are the person on whom he will practice being thoughtful, generous, patient, chivalrous, understanding, and kind.  His dad is the guy he will gravitate towards, when he hits a certain age, pulling away from you just a bit as he becomes more interested in learning what it is to be a man.  But he will never pull away completely, Mom.  So never fear.

You are the person who teaches your boy how to love--and to express that love--when it comes to the fairer sex.  And oh, how he'll love you!

I'll never forget the time I was walking along the main street of our downtown area with son #4 (when he was about four or five), and we passed by a jewelry store.  Displayed in the window was a large collection of earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings, all featuring the same sparkling, light-blue gemstone.  He stopped to look, and pointed at a necklace that had a big old rock dangling from it (remember the epic necklace from the movie "Titanic"?--sort of like that one!); then he turned his face up to me and said very earnestly, "Someday I'm going to buy that for you." (I'm tearing up thinking about this!)

I'll also never forget the time that I overheard son #3 (who was about five at the time) discussing the subject of marriage with several of his young girl cousins.  They were all planning whom they would marry one day, choosing boys from the cousin pool because they didn't realize yet that there were available choices outside that group.  Then they asked him whom he was going to marry.  And without missing a beat, he said, "Why do I have to marry anyone?  I've got my mom!"  (Fortunately, a heart cannot expand so much that it explodes, or I would have been in trouble that day!)

Those are two incidents out of so many--too many to count; but they give you the idea of how good I've had it.

I was--and am--blessed.  I'm sure there are things that I missed out on and would have enjoyed if I'd had some girl children (I see the special bond that my daughters-in-law have with their mothers); but I wouldn't trade my life for all the tea in China.  Nothing has happened in the 32-plus years since I gave birth to my first son--ever!--that has made me think I was anything less than the luckiest woman on planet earth.

When my boys were little, their Catholic school (or more accurately, mom volunteers at their Catholic school) set up a "Christmas shop" in the gym each year, where kids could buy inexpensive trinkets and even get them gift-wrapped.  So our boys saved up their allowances and excitedly went shopping for their dad and me.  Invariably, they did not pick the useful oven mitt or crocheted potholder for their mom; they picked jewelry.  It was the cheapest kind of costume jewelry, the sort of items you might put in the goody bags at a seven-year-old's birthday party.  But those boys were so anxious to shower me with precious jewels befitting a queen.  I still have some of the baubles they gave me, and I treasure them.  Check out the ring I'm wearing on my pinky here, right next to the diamond band my husband gave me for my fiftieth birthday.  That pink plastic stone has had a special spot in my jewelry box for about 20 years now.

Aside from jewelry, I also have knickknacks that my growing boys chose for me with such care, for birthdays and Mother's Days.  I think they surmised that if their gift involved angels, puppies, flowers, or candles, Mom would love it.  (And she did.)

My sons' gift-giving has evolved, growing ever more sophisticated as the years pass.  For instance, here on our living room mantle sits the amazing, and much too expensive, present our baby picked out for me this Christmas: an ornately-decorated box that opens up to reveal a breathtaking surprise.  (What woman out there isn't a sucker for all things Willow Tree, I ask you?)

The gifts might have changed, but the love remains the same: almost childlike in its simplicity and eagerness to please.

I love my boys fiercely and completely, even more now that they're grown men.  I love seeing the ones who are married treat their wives--who are now their best girls--with the same sweet thoughtfulness that they've always shown me.

How did I get so lucky?

Rhetorical question.  I know we'll never have the answers to questions like that one until we get to meet our Maker in the hereafter.  Just as we must endure trials and tribulations that seem unfair in this life, God also bestows on us so many blessings that we don't necessarily "deserve."  It is my job, for the rest of my days, to just be ever-mindful of how inordinately I've been blessed, and to make of my life one great expression of thanksgiving to that most loving of Fathers...Who made me a mother.