Mothers are the necessity of invention

One might find oneself drifting off into the darkness and wonder what happened. What happened to the promise of youth? What happened to the hope of the parents and the excitement of the extended family when they came to visit the newborn? There are pictures of the baby in the arms of antiquity, arms which lost their motion soon thereafter and never touched us again, except in amber pictures. What kind of thoughts were going through the minds of the old ones when they came and held the newborn in their arms? Did they think of the extension of their own selves or simply celebrate the love and happiness of new life extended to another generation?

We go on in an effort to make it all work for us, for our families, for our children. We hold those little ones in our arms and know that we must struggle to keep the ball bouncing in the air for another day, another week, another month, another year, until those gifts of progeny are self-supporting and struggling themselves to make it work. And we do drift off into the darkness, knowing that we have struggled with the tasks to continue. There is satisfaction in the struggle, because we struggle for the ones we love.