Motherhood IS FOREVER!!! A Mother’s Day “SPECIAL”

This post is dedicated to motherhood, which is everyday, not only  one day in May.

For the last three weeks or longer,  I have been unable to listen to, or watch anything on the media because of the non-stop ads about Mother’s Day gifts and making it sound as if everyone ever born (one thing is for sure, we ALL came of a Mother) is running to K- Jewelers to buy the “Open-Heart Collection,” or diamonds, or even better chocolates and diamonds. I switched channels but other channels told me stories of discounts for Mom.

My favorite, which made me turn off the TV, not just switch channels: Mom opens a LOT of presents under the watchful gaze of her also perfect daughter. Mom is clearly delighted, yet, she says:”You shouldn’t have!” but everyone knows better! She says that just because, by definition, mothers in TV commercials are PERFECT! That includes humble.

As the mother of two adult daughters raised here, in the world of “every kiss begins with K,” therefore the conclusion is go buy expensive diamonds from K-Jewelers, I have mixed feelings about Mother’s Day and the way we have been programmed to celebrate it, in line with all the other commercial holidays.

I also think of my own mother, no longer on Earth, but whom I will ALWAYS celebrate in MY HEART.

I am thinking back to my childhood, in Romania  where we didn’t have Mother’s Day. So… lacking a randomly (or may be not so randomly) chosen Day to show appreciation for my mother, I showed my love and respect every day, in small but significant ways, as she was aging and fighting cancer.

In my culture, respect for a mother was not a one day deal, but a life-long responsibility, which was not doubted or questioned or commercialized.

We had the knowledge in our DNA that our mothers brought us into this world, nursed us, raised us, were by our side in all major life events, good and bad. Somehow we also knew that our moms were not perfect but they did the best they could with what they had at that moment. We knew somehow without anyone preaching us, what to do to honor our mothers every day when their turn came to be shown love.

Commercials set aside, parties forgotten, please remember every day that without your MOM, there would be NO YOU.

Celebrate motherhood everyday, because  mothers don’t feed us, kiss us and love us one day a year, but every breathing moment for as long as they live!

For me, as I will honor my own mother tomorrow, with the good and the bad times together, I wish all daughters would take a moment to reflect and open their hearts, not to buy from the “open heart collection,” but to simply say:

I love you Mom!” 20140910_124124

Motherhood… All Kinds Of Mothers. Does Motherhood Ever End?


How do you define motherhood and once a mother, does it ever end?

Before I became a mother, it was easy to explain the concept: A woman and a man made love and a child  resulted in the process. They raised the child and that was it! Simple!

I grew up in communist Romania and my mother’s greatest fear was that I would get pregnant as a teenager. There would have been nothing worst in her mind that me, still a child, to make the disastrous mistake to allow my hormones, as she put it, to cloud my “judgement.”  As a result, she “kept” my virginity intact by giving me pelvic exams after every date I had as a teenager. For years, I saw those horrific moments, when my privacy was invaded, as a sign of great love and concern. I still do, after all these years, even when I know the manifestation of her love was wrong and scarred me for life.

I really wanted to be a good girl, I didn’t want to disappoint and at eighteen, I secretly married my boyfriend.

The “secret marriage,” was a shock to everyone, but at least,  the pelvic  exams stopped. They were replaced by motherly advice on how not to get pregnant while being sexually active.

I continued to be a good girl and for the following 12 years, never got pregnant. I knew how to “protect myself,” and please my mother, who continued to tell me having kids would be a mistake. She was giving herself and her “wasted” life as an example. I was her only child… what was I doing on this Earth if I have not been welcomed, not even by my mother? A question I am still asking myself…

I never asked those questions at the time. In our “collectivist culture,” as I discovered much later, it was defined, families were close, parents respected and not discarded when one turned eighteen. Truth be told, the parents didn’t discard their children at eighteen either. The age had little to do with the idea that parenting ever stops.

Throughout my married life I continued to call her daily and visit her weekly. When she fell ill, I felt guilty if I didn’t visit her daily. When she died, I felt I lost my best friend. I still do.

However, somehow, her death freed me of the fear of becoming a mother myself.  What if being a mother was that unique experience which fulfills a woman? To experience first hand the miracle of life. ..

A few years later, in a different country, a different culture, which at the time I did not know it was called “individualistic,” I re-married and had two beautiful daughters.

The instincts of being a mother completely took over my life. I breathed, worked, ate, slept  and dreamed for my daughters’ benefits.

I wanted them to have it all. Everything which I didn’t, growing up in Romania: piano lessons, art lessons, gymnastics, dance,  best private schools. I changed professions, so that my children will not take the yellow school bus and I drove them to school daily. Oh, and the pets, which were denied to me in my childhood! MY children were going to have a zoo! And a zoo it was: dogs, cats, reptiles, birds, fish. Even a frog…

I thought I was doing it all right… I knew the saying children learn what they see. I even read in a book that a child associated the smell of alcohol with his mother’s good night kiss, and I stopped drinking, for fear my children would “like alcohol,” because it was associated with my breathe. I wanted their self-esteem to be great and purchased special tapes to boost their egos.

Years went by, they turned 18 and left. They left as far away as I could  have imagined… They no longer needed me!

I love my grown up daughters and miss them every day… It is heartbreaking for me to accept that for over twenty years they were the center of my life and now, that my “motherly duty” is over, they disappeared from my life forever! I am shattered inside and can’t manage to glue back together the broken pieces of my heart.

Once, when I was a child, I played with a type of insects called God’s caws. I put them in a jar and inside I put grass and food for them and observed them. After a while, I noticed tiny white eggs, which after a few days turned into larvas. What shocked me, was that the second the “babies” came to life, the parents died! At the time, that made me sad, but now, I think differently…

Perhaps it would be easier on a human mother’s soul to just die once her children no longer need her…

I envy those insects, for not having to make a choice. God made it for them!



A Mother’s Heart Knows

Drip, drip, drip…

Tears on my cheeks,

Lingering on my chest,

All the way down,

On the hard floors,

underneath my feet!

Drip, drip, drip…

Pain in my brain,

Confusion in my heart,

Despair in my soul!

Drip, drip, drip…

The whole of me hauls,

Like a wild animal,

Left with no cubs.

Far away, a new rock bottom is being reached,

Helped by hyenas disguised as friends!

Drip, drip, drip…

We dig our holes,

Thousands of miles away,

Yet our souls are tangled into eternity…

They came of me

I can’t let go and watch my babies fall

A piece of me is them,

A piece of them is me…

We fall together,

Regardless the distance,

In different ways,

In far away places!

Drip, drip, drip…

My own tears drawn me,

God watches, knows and decides,

on his own terms!

Drip, drip, drip…

The whole of me is ice,

but I  feel  stabbing




When would the nightmare end?

Drip, drip, drip…

I wipe off the blood which pours

from my wounded heart…

Drip, drip, drip,

there is MORE!!!

A Nobody!

A Nobody!.


I thank everyone who so generously commented on my blog and wrote comments. Beside seeing my dogs and parrot, it was the BEST part of being back home! 

I am sorry if I disappoint some of my readers, but this is NOT a blog addressing a niche but rather the winding of our minds (yes, I am an online Counselor:)  in addition of being a blogger and author.

So… this post is not about schemes, or internet dating, but a much deeper kind of love: A MOTHER’S LOVE

I am back from my daughter’s wedding and being a single mom, it was her wish to walk her down the isle and hand her to her future husband.

The natural beauty of the New Hampshire Farm (Sunny Slope) helped my anxiety and we could have not asked for a better Fall day!

I am not going to “detail” the menu, the dramas, the mixed feelings and how I felt when suddenly, a step from “giving her away” in the arms of happiness, I started to cry. YES cry, and I had no tissues!

What I would like to share with other single moms, is that it is more than okay to NOT have a man walking your daughter down the isle, especially if you, like me, have been BOTH parents.

The part I would really like to share is the TOAST you, as the mother of the bride, will be asked to deliver.

I was warned people will already be tired and to keep it short. How short? A minute? Two? Five? Well seems under five would be okay.

I am not rich in financial “riches” and I do have a perpetual inferiority complex, especially when well intended friends ask me how come I have so much education, gifts, and I worked so hard and YET I am poor. Amazing, isn’t it???

 Well… poverty is relative, although ONLY those who never needed money say money don’t  bring happiness. May be not happiness, but a good night sleep, yes. Your children secure, yes, good “organic” food, yes… etc. OH and health insurance, and trips! Yeah, a little bitter, I am:)

Back to the wedding!  Here I was, waiting my turn to give the “TOAST” and all I could do was to stare at the spread on the table:

shrimp, sausages, baked potatoes, all spread DIRECTLY on brown paper in the middle of the tables. NO utensils! However, I did convince my daughter (whom I birthed already knowing it all) that providing aprons to all guests would be a good memento of the wedding and also appreciated as protection of their festive outfits.

Yes, here’s a confession, I was trained in public speaking, yes, I knew I should start with a joke and I did and YES I knew to keep it under 5 minutes, and yes, in spite ALL this great knowledge I am still financially poor.  I also knew from previous public speaking experiences that I might do it all the right way and bore the audience! That was my fear! Financially poor, okay, but poor and boring! NO!

Here’s the MESSAGE and what I HOPE ALL the financially not so rich single moms out there take from this post.

Your riches are more than money and do NOT let anyone intimidate you with the sound of their coins.

This is how I best expressed what I did, do and will always be able to offer my children regardless of the stock market being up or down:

A Mother’s Love

I may not be with you,

But I am part of you.

When the container named ‘body,’

Will be no more,

My soul will still be

And NEVER leave yours!

No matter life’s circumstances,

My love will never end!

I offered it to you, at birth,


To be part of you

And protect you


A Mother’s love cannot be

Defined, explained or ended…

It JUST is:



by Rodica Mihalis 2013 all rights reserved