When we all want our Mommies.

Last year, Lyn and I watched our grandsons, JJ & Will while their Moms were on vacation.  Will was aged two and very much a Mommy’s boy.  If daughter, Beth chatted with a friend, Will would push his way to her and rub up against her legs.  This was his signal he wanted his Mommy to pay attention only to him.  His need for her attention was deep.

During Will’s stay with us he would ask for his Mommy.  We’d offered the agreed respond, “Mommy and Momma are on vacation.  They are coming back; they always come back.”  Usually a hug would reinforce the point, and he’d move on.  But late at night, Will would prove harder to console.  The little guy would wake and start repeatedly crying, “Mommy” louder and with more heart tugging angst each time.

It came to me, that at some level, he actually believed crying would bring his Mother 2,000 miles in the middle of the night.  All he believed he needed to do was cry louder and longer until it worked.  Sadly, we had to let him cry himself out usually two hours later.

I thought more about the blind faith he showed by believing his Mommy would come storming out of some cosmic void to his aid.

Then I found a corollary in adults.  Grown men would lay wounded on a battlefield, and when all hope vanishes, they’d cry out for their Mommies.  Who can blame them?

They and Will shared the same unassailable belief their Moms would swoop in during their time of need.

Such is the power our Mother have on us.  It is also a tribute to the remarkable jobs they’ve done.

This blog is dedicated to one of life’s best Moms: Laura P. Mascherino Reutter


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