Thank You for Being Mama

Motherhood is a job that comes without a playbook, though there are assumptions that one exists.

Growing up, I think all young girls had that moment when we said, “I will never be like Mama!” Yet as young women starting our own families, we now catch ourselves mimicking Mama through words or actions.

I look at my mother at the young age of 80 and see deep stories. She became a mother at age 23, again at 26, and for the final time at 27 when I arrived on the scene.

I adored my mother as a little girl and loved getting to go to luncheons with her while my brother and sister were at school. I remember her activism when we lived on Kenny and Van Dyke and there were no crossing guards or light near where children crossed to go to school. I remember going with her to a Detroit City Council meeting, where her deep passion for achieving the goal of a safety guard and light provoked her to say some choice words to a councilmember. Now I know where I got my passion from.

Navigating motherhood became more difficult for my mom when my parents separated. She became the primary parent, and things didn’t start off so well in that chapter.

Years later there was a rift between the two of us. I questioned a lot of her actions and moves she made. I went from worshiping her to not speaking to her at all. This time period was very hard. But what young people often don’t realize is that mothers, especially from her generation, don’t share everything with the people in their lives.

If you look at us today, if you knew us and I didn’t mention the rift, no one would know. When love is the foundation of a relationship, what was broken will be repaired.

We grew from that experience and learned to share more, be more present, and to show up. We learned to laugh again, to cry together, and to have respect for one another. We created new memories and experiences.

We went to dinners and outings and on road trips, things we didn’t get a chance to do before. What was missed while I was a youth we did in our next chapter, and that is what motherhood is to me: living chapters that create the rule book or playlist.

When I became a mother, it actually helped me understand my mother more and the reasoning behind her previous silence. She was now class. The do’s and don’t’s of motherhood went out the window and the “I’m here for you” chapter began to be written.

Who was by my side wiping my tears when my son almost lost his life at six months of age from Kawasaki disease? My mother! Who filled in for me when I couldn’t attend a school outing? My mother! When her grandmother went home to be with the Lord, it was my turn to be there for her. I got to see moments I realized I didn’t see often as a child, but again, this was another chapter being written.

My mother is still my heartbeat. She gave me the best advice ever: “nothing beats a failure but a try.” And that’s how we navigate through life.

Mama, thank you, thank you for being a class, thank you for being my strength and being there for William and me when we needed you most. Thanks for creating new memories and moments. Thanks for the laughter and for wiping the tears.

Being a trouper--or “Sergeant,” as many have called you over the years--you forged straight on through, still guiding and helping me through this venture.

Mama, you’ve become quiet in your wiser years and I’m the voiceful one.

Mama, you have been through so much, fought many silent battles. You’ve forgiven so many who didn’t earn it, but then you wouldn’t be a Christian woman of God.

I don’t know how many times you wet your pillowcase at night, crying. I don’t know how many times you wore a smile when inside you may have said, “This is too much, Lord!” But what I do know is that you have persevered over all tests this life may have thrown your way.

There are never enough words I could ever say that would be fitting enough to tell you how much I love you.

Happy Mother’s Day, Saundra Peeples. Mama, I love you to the moons and stars, down and round and up again.