Motherhood is a theme that can be found throughout the Outlander series, starting from book one up until the daily lines of book nine supplied to us by Diana Gabaldon. This is another reason why we fans have fallen in love with the series. Diana has inked out what we mom's know to be true. Here are three separate stories that have the common thread of a mother's love for her children. Written by Kendra Selby, Heidi Burke and Joi Acuña
What makes a mother? The obvious answer is a child. But what if that child is no longer of this earth? Just a few years ago, my best friend suffered a devastating loss when she was in the very late stages of pregnancy. The stillbirth of her son shook her life to the core. Just a few weeks afterwards, she celebrated her very first Mother’s Day. The local Mexican restaurant was offering free fried ice cream in celebration of the day. Visiting with her own mother and grandmother my friend, Laken, again suffered heartbreak when the waiter proudly presented all the women at the table with their Mother’s Day dessert. Everyone, that is, except for her. After all, how was the restaurant to know, that she too was a mother, albeit of an angel? Laken and I discussed this moment today, and even now 2 years later, with a one year old playing at her feet, the memory still brings tears.
So the question remains, are you still a mother even after the loss of a child? Absolutely. Neither time nor distance can ever erase the absolute love and devotion a woman will feel for her baby from the moment she knows he or she exists. As Diana Gabaldon so richly describes, you never lose them. You can’t. At the moment of conception a mother’s soul is born and that can never die. From beginning to end, every child is a part of their mother, a part so necessary and vital that we call it her heart.
So, Happy Mother’s Day to ALL the moms out there. Whether you’re the mother to an angel, an adult, or anything in between, just know that you are doing one of the most important jobs on Earth… loving someone forever and unconditionally.
♥ Written in loving memory of Jaxson Diesel Hamilton, born sleeping February 7, 2014 ♥
By Kendra Selby
How can you tell a woman is mother? She may not always carry the child in her own womb, but she probably has a purse full of cartoon bandaids, a drawer somewhere with a stash of baby teeth the Tooth Fairy “forgot”, and a tie-dyed wardrobe that could only be produced by body fluids no person should ever be covered with. She most likely has a stack of faded drawings in the back of her closet topped with the remains of tissue paper roses she swore were the best Mother’s Day gift ever (given along with a bottle of cheap cologne, that every time she wore, people complained about smelling wet sheep). We mothers are easily identifiable by the purple bags we wear under our eyes that go smashingly with the purple bruises on our legs from being kicked by a toddler having a temper tantrum. (and people wonder why we just want some “me time”).
A mother's “me time” is often those two minutes of peace we get upon closing the bathroom door, before all hell breaks loose on the other side. I just want to sit down for an hour, undisturbed, read some Outlander and pretend I'm Claire (oh, how I'd love to fall through some stones right about now!). *insert big dramatic sigh here*
But now, the only Claire I'm channeling, is her yelling “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!” as I catch my son giving the dog a haircut on the living room rug.
So, to all the mothers out there, whether you're a step-mother, adoptive mother, foster mother, or grandmother, Happy Mother's Day! May you get more than 2 minutes peace in the loo and perfume that doesn't stink...too much. ?
By Heidi Burke
"I have noticed," she said slowly, "that time doesn't really exist for mothers, with regard to their children. It does not matter greatly how old the child is-in the blink of an eye, the mother can see the child again as it was when it was born, when it learned to walk, as it was at any age-at any time, even when the child is fully grown and a parent itself."
Mothers don't need stones to time travel. As Diana Gabaldon beautifully writes in her third novel, Voyager. Having four daughters these words resonate with me daily however those words have a special meaning this year. Two distinct moments have fluttered into my life recently. The first being a drive home from the car mechanics garage. My oldest daughter was following me in her car. We were about to cross over this long bridge and I glanced in my rear view mirror to check on her. Imagine my surprise when I saw the head of a small five year old peering over the steering wheel. She must have had the music on because that precious head was rhythmically bobbing away. I didn't tell her I teared up a bit but I spent the rest of the drive home glancing into that memory book of a mirror. The second moment is upon me because my oldest is preparing for graduation in less than a month. It's a crazy thought, I just taught her how to say tree two days ago on the balcony of our first apartment. She had green popsicle syrup running down her chubby arm insisting that the popsicle was also a green "twee" and now that arm will be extended to receive a diploma. I'm sure the tears will flow that day because they are spilling over as I write this and that precious 17 year old head is laying next to me. Happy Mother's day to every mother that continually without exhaustion exudes love to her children, those that are here and those that are beyond the stones.
By Joi Acuña