Invisible Mother

  1. Sign up to become a TPF member, and most of the ads you see will disappear. It's free and quick to sign up, so join the discussion right now!
    Dismiss Notice
Our PurseForum community is made possible by displaying online advertisements to our visitors.
Please consider supporting us by disabling your ad blocker. Thank you!
  1. 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.'

    I was certain that these were the hands that once held
    books and the eyes that studied history and the mind
    that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had
    disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen
    again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!

    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. The writer
    of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals
    could ever be built in our lifetime because there are
    so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

    When I really think about it, I don't want my son to
    tell the friend he'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 him to want to come
    home. And then, if there is anything more to say to
    his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'

    As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We
    cannot be seen 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.
     
  2. How totally beautiful. Just beautiful.
     
  3. :crybaby:
     
  4. wow...*wipes away a tear* that was very touching.
    thanks for posting it!
     
  5. OK, this hit home with me so very much. I have read a lot of the stuff on here as my DW has been part of this forum for sometime now. And I know that she sometimes feels the same way as the story describes. I have told her so many times that she is great mommy to our boys and that being a mom is one of the most incredible jobs there is. I know that sometimes it is unfulfilling and seems like no one sees a mom except when they want or need something. But in the end they will always know and love their mom.

    I want to say to all you mother, and my DW most of all, never give up because you feel invisible...we will always remember you and always love you...thank you all for being a mother to someone.
     
  6. What a great DH you are for even posting that! thank you!

    I didn't write that of course, but damn it hit home for me as I am sure it did for the many moms out there that think they are INVISIBLE.
     
  7. :cry:
     
  8. I needed to read this...today. Thank you.
     
  9. This made me wanna hug my mommy!!! But she is oceans away from me...:crybaby:
     
  10. :love: Loved this...thanks for helping me regain my perspective. At least for today!

    I think I need to read this EVERY day!
     
  11. thanks for posting, it was very nice to read!!!
     

  12. I see your added that quote to your profile. I LOVE IT.
     
  13. ^ You, my darling, have done more than you know today. Thank you.:hugs:
     
  14. I needed it today too!

    :yes::heart:
     
  15. I love that..and it is all so worth it!