By Renate Rivers

As a general consensus, mothers are defined as the support structure of a family and community.  They are the foundations on which everything is built.  The comforting and nourishing presence.  The domestic goddess.  The ally.  The triage nurse.  The sideline support.  The love that sustains.

They provide a shoulder to lean on, the healing touch when the pain becomes too much and a maid to clean up the proverbial (and literal) messes we create.

A mother is always the foundation of family; they are the first port of call when we want something.  They are the safe harbor in which we shelter when the torrential downpour of life’s hard lessons seem never ending.

No truer words have been spoken with the phrase – Mother is God in the eyes of a child.  These words may seem blasphemous to those who have seen many seasons, but taking a moment to reflect on its true meaning will set aside any feelings of doubt.

When a child is born, he or she has already formed a close connection to his or her mother.  She is the alpha and the omega.  This intrinsic bond is what supports us through the early stages of infancy and childhood.  The link between mother and child remains strong until our natural curiosity about the world creeps in. 

Our accumulated experiences are all the sweeter, knowing she will always be there for you.  She is often ignored on our tumultuous journey of teenage dramas and life-threatening social tragedies but when the storm passes, we return to the familiar haven of our mother’s love and devotion. 

At times we do not understand nor accept the overbearing and perpetual narrative that flows from her stockpile of infinite wisdom, but often we begrudgingly accept (mostly with unspoken thought) that indeed, we do not know the answers to everything. 

As children, we do not question our mothers.  We are taught to obey and follow instruction.  As teenagers, we question (mostly with unspoken thought but sometimes with temperamental breakdowns) and try to obey, but the combination of hormones and social pressure is often too lofty a hurdle to overcome – and so we rebel and test the boundaries.

As young adulthood melds in to adulthood, we begin to make our own decisions… and finally get to choose our own clothes. 

As we experience the vastness of what life has to offer, we begin to see her flaws for what they are – human and humbling. 

We see that our parents, our mothers, are not as virtuous as we may have once thought (or insisted).  We see that they wear their masks like anyone else.  The reality of the world chips away at the facade, and the humanity underneath begins to emerge. 

It can be a sobering realisation and a bitter pill to swallow for some.  It is at this stage that we realise our mothers are not goddesses.  They are not paragons of virtue.  They do not have all the answers, and they are definitely not infallible.  They make mistakes, they interfere and the definition of the word ‘stubborn’ in the dictionary should simply be one word – Mother.

But, we love them still.  We overlook their failings, as they do ours.  We support them as they have supported us.  We teach our children what we believe is right, and even if it pains us to admit it – some of her pearls of wisdom have made it through the other side.

Each of us has been influenced by our mothers.  Whether positively or negatively, some part of what we have learned has shaped and inspired us to be the people we are today.  We may end up like them, or we may follow a different path, but we must never forget that one day we too shall be judged by our own children.

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Renate Rivers