To
my daughters, et al.,
“Et
al.” is an interesting term to use in a salutation but perfect for my point. Et
al. is short for the Latin term ‘el alia’ which means ‘and others’.
It
is such a broad term that it can encompass anything anyone wants to add in for
reasons both proper and true and reasons so obscure only the adder knows why, adder
as a noun and not to be confused with a snake. The punctuation for the term is
a bit esoteric and I did the best I can.
I
have been blessed with two daughters of my own, a daughter-in-law, and a bunch
of bonus-daughters via their association with my kids or having come through
the various youth programs I’ve served. Some of my bonus-daughters have
daughters of their own who have children and that is a reflection on me being
in the youth work game for a long time and achieving the title of old man. I
embrace it.
You young women are raising children who are loving, open, and inclusive. As
mothers, you are completely vested in your kids and present in their lives. You take them on adventures to the park, walks around the block, vacations,
and stay-at-home exploits and flights of fancy. You guys hug your kids
through every childhood misadventure and scraped knee, laugh with them in play,
and dance, and understand jokes only your child knows the punchline to.
The
investment of unyielding and unconditional love from mothers, and in particular
the ones I am holding in my heart as I write this, will pay off in healthy, loving,
and brave young adults and responsible people over the next generation. I am in
awe of you and in truth, more than a bit proud. You warm my heart on chilly
days and refresh me like the breeze coming in off the lake on a hot summer day.
These
things did not come about by accident. Your mom invested in you as their
mothers invested in them. They put the right ingredients in the bowl just so and if you were a fortunate lass, your grandmothers added dashes of wisdom and
caring and stirred the pot just enough that all the ingredients were thoroughly
mixed. They didn’t stop with the mixing and taste testing, they put you in the
oven and let you bake into the women you have become. I salute them and wish I
could hug each of them right now and thank them for the work they did and the
miracles they performed.
Thank
you ladies for being amazing. Happy Mother’s Day.
Now,
if you have read this far and you are asking yourself if I meant you then yes,
I meant you. If you don’t have kids yet or might never have kids then I submit
to you that you likely still qualify as a bonus-mom or a fantastic aunt and are
adding critical ingredients to the next generation. Keep stirring them in and
watch that they aren’t left in the oven too long and burn. And, as any good
cook will do, taste test often.
Again,
happy Mother’s Day.
I
love you all,
Dad or Jer Bear as the case may be.
