My Spark

I recently read an amazing story about the sacrifice mothers make for their children.
It is a (possibly true) story of a mother who was found dead in the rubble after the
earthquake in Japan. After she was pronounced dead, rescuers searched her body and
found a baby. The baby was protected by her body and was still alive after many days
in the rubble. Just to pull at the heart strings a bit more, they found a cell phone with a
message typed on it: “If you survive, remember I love you very much.” Yeah, I know.
Crazy, right? Especially if it’s true.

Recently my mother told me that she’s noticed I have lost my “spark.” She said that as
a child and young adult, I was always a dreamer. I was curious about everything and
I had my own path, and she felt I had lost that wonderment. In her infinite WISDOM,
she suggested that I try to figure out a way to get the spark back before I lose myself.
Although my mother was being very critical — and clearly was not thinking about the
possible role she may have played in dulling my spark — it made me think about the
sacrifices I’ve made as a result of becoming a mother, and what effect they’ve had on
my being and identity.

My spark: is it gone or does it just have a different twinkle?

I do remember the days when I was able to spend time thinking about the world in
a wide-eyed, naïve way. And had time to sit and chat about the world over a couple
of pints or a nice dinner. Today my schedule is a lot more structured and focused. I
have minimal waking time for the important things: my son Lo, my partner, my work,
my school, my family, and my friends. And yes, in that order. Yeah, I am definitely
exhausted and the energy required for my spark to shine has dimmed, but I do not think
it is gone. I think it just flickers differently.

Today my spark shines when Lo says “Mamma,” when Lo stares at me for a couple of
seconds and then kisses me, when Lo grabs for my hand, when Lo hums the tune I am
humming, when Lo laughs, when Lo hugs me so tight both arms are wrapped around
my neck, when Lo notices something new, when Lo is delighted by me and my husband
hugging or kissing (which is not very often), when Lo offers a toy to a child who is upset,
and when Lo attempts to say “I love you.”

So MOTHER, my spark is not gone. It now has a different shade, and is lit up by the
new things that are important to me now. Maybe one day I will be that dreamer, that
carefree person I used to be. But I am thinking that maybe that is unlikely. And maybe
that is okay, right?

- Gray Mama

[photo credit: Gabriel Pollard via Wikipedia]