Today during the homily of Saturday Mass, the priest spoke of Mary's love, particularly at the foot of the Cross. There she stood with "fortitude and tenderness," he said. I agree with the priest in that I too cannot imagine watching my child tortured, ridiculed, spat upon, hated by His very own. While I sat and listened to the words of the homily, I was taken back to thoughts I had yesterday. There are times when Maddy gets hurt as she tries out her new skills of standing and trying to walk. She has fallen, and there are times when it hurts so much to see her suffer, and yet I know that that is part of growth. If there was never any pain, there would never be any progress. To go through life without a struggle, without a disappointment, without some sort of pain is impossible. I need to give her comfort as her mom to show her that everything is all right. I am here. Being there is a double-edged sword. I want to love, but it hurts to watch. If I were to walk away, that would not be love but selfishness, because I would be caring more about my own feelings than her bumped head and sensitive emotions. A mother's love goes beyond feelings. It means swallowing one's own hurt to be brave for one's child. It is taking a deep breath instead of bursting into tears when all that a baby needs is a great big, secure, and confident hug and tender kiss. I am learning. I am growing. I am trying to understand what it means to love as a mom and to have fortitude and tenderness as Christ's Mom did beneath the cross. She must have wanted so badly to bandage His bruises, wipe His bloody brow, kiss His swollen cheeks. Her presence and strength accomplished that, for in her being there, her act of love said: I am here. I love you. You are my child and I will be with you until the end.
