Oh, the Lessons a Mother Can Learn : Parenting: Little is said about how children shape a mother’s life, which can expand into new and exciting definitions over the years.

The noun mother is defined in Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary as “female parent, ancestress,” and the like. Roget’s Thesaurus lists “nurture, shelter, raise, overprotect” among its synonyms for mother , the verb. Interestingly, there is no reference in either text to a mother’s own learning, growing and maturing. That should not be surprising, for there is much that happens between mother and child that is not easily defined.

Of course, mothers are not limited to protective, affectionate, sheltering roles. Meaningful as these responsibilities are, there is so much more. My own motherhood has expanded into new and exciting definitions over the passage of 41 years.

When the social worker put Jeff in my arms in 1950, I became an instant mother. My instincts to love and protect, nurture and encourage had to move to a new dimension. No leisurely nine months of preparation. From the moments that I tried to teach our children to pull themselves up on their feet, to present moments when I repeat my litany for treating a cold, I have mothered Jeff and Judi with all the Momisms known to humanity.

But, until the advent of this Mother’s Day, I have never seriously considered what I have learned from our children.

Our two children have defined me. That is a fact. They have shown me a way that reveals vistas neither academic class nor personal study ever did. They have molded and altered my character and outlook as no therapist could. They replaced my middle-class innocence and Victorian sensibilities with naked, often harsh, reality; they evoked from me new understanding, a gentler self. Jeff and Judi have clarified my mission in life.

We mothers frequently wonder in frustration, “were the children ever listening?” In 1953, when I faced with Jeff the reality that his 5-year-old friend had carried off our son’s favorite red crayon and his grandpa’s silver dollar, it provided me a fine opportunity to teach honesty and loyalty. In North Carolina, when I encouraged Judi to be polite and helpful to the black woman who worked for us, did she understand that I was also teaching her to stand up against bigotry?

They were listening. They heard. Jeff’s fairness and honesty have never deserted him; Judi remains color blind, status blind and open to all persons. Their steadfast adherence to principle has strengthened my personal commitment to values.

In the early years, when Judi kept falling off the bike I was trying to teach her to ride, I wondered what was wrong with my teaching technique. Then, one day, she took her two-wheeled nemesis to the back yard and taught herself to ride. At that moment, she became my teacher, as well. I learned that our strong-willed daughter had to succeed without help. She was her own best teacher.

Similarly, when Jeff sprained a finger each time he tried to catch a ball, it took us forever--as it must have seemed to him--to understand that he did not like playing ball. My two young teachers never hesitated to repeat their lessons over and over, until I, their mother, got the message. They must have considered me a slow learner.

The lessons continued. Twenty-one years ago, my husband and I confronted our son’s homosexuality. When we climbed out of our shock and disappointment, I started walking a road that I continue to tread today.

My mission is to reach out to other parents, to break down the myths of homosexuality by sharing information and feelings. It is my goal and my hope to demolish barriers between parents and children so that those of our children who happen to be gay or lesbian can enjoy unqualified love and acceptance in the warmth of their own families, as well as in school and community. Jeff’s life is a lesson in love and I have been a willing student. Together we are working out our life’s responsibilities.

But that is not all there is. Fifteen years ago, our daughter took us to meet a large group of her friends: what a kaleidoscope of color, lifestyles, poverty, affluence and age. That day, to our complete surprise and astonishment, Judi celebrated her first year of sobriety. Wow! What did I know about alcoholism: I remembered that when I was 18, my father mixed my first drink and told me to always eat something when drinking alcohol. That was his sobriety prescription for me, my first and only lesson about alcoholism.

Over the years, since that celebratory day, our daughter has taught us about the disease, about recidivism and recovery, support, acceptance and love. She has sharpened my perceptions, understanding and empathy. I never sip a glass of wine without silently thinking of all those who cannot; I know that it is not cute to give a toddler “just a taste” of a cocktail; I understand more than ever before the value of peer support. Judi’s life is an instruction for me, yet another lesson in love. I have accepted the fact that it is a course that requires constant refreshing. Our daughter fulfills her life’s mission daily when she answers the phone with “Sure I have time to listen!” when a friend has run into an obstacle to sobriety.

My willingness to absorb instruction from our children, my enthusiasm to continue learning from them and growing because of them have not ended. Let me try to illustrate this: I believe that every one of us has a mission in life to make this world, at the very least, a bit better than it was when we arrived. Recently, threatened by the fragility of our son’s health in the prime of his life, I wondered: if I were called upon to evaluate my mission today, as if it were my final day on earth, how would I respond?

I believe that I am fulfilling my mission because our children have continually set my feet on the proper path.

On this Mother’s Day, I proudly affirm: our children have defined my motherhood by defining my mission in life. In social work school, I learned to appreciate and understand people and their everyday needs. In my mothering, I have learned to appreciate and understand our children and their special needs. With them and because of them, I am trying to do my share to make this world just a little bit better.