Friday, September 29, 2006

You may call her Hathor or Nut.

Some you in blogland may not realize that superheroes have mothers, but they do--and thank gods and goddesses for that!

My mother's birthday was yesterday.

Yesterday in Isisland was not the kind of day that allowed even a superheroine to sit down and write adequately about someone that important, though, so for the purposes of this humble blog, let's call today Isis's Mother's Day (observed).

Sometimes I try to imagine what it could be like to be her. I know she gave birth to me when she was 27, so when I was 27 I tried to imagine having a baby. I could not. This is not the first or the last thing that my mother has done that I find amazing.

Sometimes I have a sense that strength is something emanating from somewhere. Sometimes I can even stand close enough to it to feel it running through my body, and for a long time I wondered why those times were so often times when I was standing next to her, why that feeling got stronger as I moved closer, weaker as I moved away. Now that I so rarely get to stand so literally close, I look for ways to pretend I am. Luckily for me, I have so many memories of her resolute stance, of her armory of defenses, her statements of wisdom, that I can reach into my mind and almost feel like she is standing there beside me.

Many years ago, when I was first living away from home, my aunt and I hatched a scheme to surprise my mother, so that when my aunt and her husband visited for my mother's birthday, they had me in tow. This did not surprise my mother, because she (unlike me, who just pretends) really and truly is a wise and powerful goddess, and she can see through other people's attempts to be slick and wily, so she had even made up my bed.

A couple of years ago, she had a milestone birthday, and lucky me, I had some time away from work and I got to spend it with her. Every time that September 28th rolls around, I wish I could do that again.

So join me please in giving thanks for the gifts of Hathor, or Nut, or however we'll pretend to call the mother of Isis. You may not know it out there in blogland, but we are all happier and wiser and stronger and better for having her around.


estaminet said...

(sing along)
Happy Birthday to your Mom,
Happy Birthday to your Mom,
Happy Birthday, dear Isis's Mom,
Happy Birthday to your Mom!

Joe said...

Now it's your turn to be a mother!

Isis said...

Don't hold your breath, Joe.