Look here, I can tell you what you need.
But why should you choose to listen to me? After all, I am a nobody.
Just your mother.
I am only the woman who, through an act of passion or violence, conceived you.
My body was only the one who allowed the space needed for your ultimate conception.
My insides alone housed your very beginnings, when those miraculous molecules of yours decided to fuse together, and bond, and radiate a tiny, but detectable human being.
Your existence only began inside my very womb, which sheltered your form, and protected you when your life was at its most vulnerable stage.
I ate the foods that you told me I craved. I took supplements to insure the enhancement of your creation.
I sought the advice of physicians and specialists in an earnest attempt to bring your body to its initial fruition.
When you decided you were ready to face this world, I alone birthed you into existence. My body purged you through an opening that is usually only reserved for urine and penises. Yet, that small opening in me expanded and changed so that you might make your magnificent entrance into this world.
After your belabored birth, my body than chose to feed you; at all hours of the day or night, in any circumstance, whether in private or public; flawlessly nourishing you so that you could live and grow.
You developed as I watched over you; hovering when you needed me, giving you distance when you didn’t.
You grew, you explored, you dared to learn about things far and wide; yet I never for a moment considered you anyone else’s responsibility but mine.
These roads that you now travel with your wisdom and courage, let me tell you that I already know them. For I was, at times 13, 16, 18, and 21. I saw the best and the worst of those years, I know them all like the back of my hand.
And here you are – at 27, scorning my religious choices, and my belief in God, whom you say doesn’t exist.
But let me tell you, that this God that you choose not to believe in – He knows you, more closely than even I do. For who do you think I talked to when I had questions about becoming a parent? Who do you think I prayed to during those nights while you lay in bed with a high fever and various ailments? Who do you think caused you to come into being as a person and a mother?
It wasn’t just me.
So maybe, when you get done figuring out your complex life and all of those multitudes of things that now make up your day that you have already figured out without my help; maybe, just maybe at some point, during a quiet moment, you should turn your thoughts to Him, and marvel at His complexity and divinity.
But you won’t do it, and I know that you won’t listen to what I am telling you and that’s ok. For what do I know?
After all, I am only your mother.
Story and photograph by L. J. Priest. All rights reserved.