
Becoming a Mom is watching your heart walk outside your body.
As I reflect on Mother’s Day, I am thinking about the mothers in my own family. Some of us had nurturing in our DNA; some of us never got the memo. Some of us got it down pat; some of us continue to learn by trial and error. None of us are perfect or have it all together. But no matter what, our bloodline flows strong, and our hearts beat true. Children are a blessing. I believe as we look upon our children, young and old, the beating of our hearts never ceases to flutter. Some of us ease into our roles, and some of us, not so much. No one ever gave me a manual on Motherhood, and even if they did, the writer most likely didn’t have children of their own. Why? Because we learn by experience, and we learn by trial and error.
As I gaze upon the eyes of each Mother represented here, I see the sadness of some unanswered prayers, worries about tomorrow, regrets of yesteryear, and the fear of failure. But I also see love, joy, perseverance, tenderness, belonging, pride, and hope for the future — a better tomorrow.
One thing my mother always said and it is worth repeating: You can have ten fathers but only one mother.
Mothers, stand in the gap for your children. No matter what, never give up on them. And in our twilight years, may our children never give up on us.
© M.A. Pérez 2018, All Rights Reserved


One of my cousins from across the miles posed a couple of great questions, giving me food for thought. He asked:














Once we landed, it was she who became our guardian angel. While I retrieved our luggage, she stayed behind and waited patiently with Mark. When I returned, she volunteered to accompany me in fetching our rental car, even praying for a blessing over the remainder of our vacation. She walked with me back to where Mark was waiting, helped me load everything into the car, and politely waved goodbye to us. I truly felt she was an angel sent by God.
We were flooded with hugs, tears, and joy, and our bellies were full of my stepmother’s delicious Fricase de Pollo in no time. Due to all the medication my husband was on, he hadn’t had much of an appetite, but I was certain it would return with all the anticipated Puerto Rican cuisine.
The next day after a warm breakfast, we drove into Ft. Lauderdale to visit Big Brother, his wife, and their three strapping sons. While the
big boys played a game of chess, we gals went grocery shopping. When we returned, Mark was ready to call it a day. The pain from his ribs was causing him misery.
The anticipated meal did not disappoint.
Although quite tasty, the star entree wasn’t the pavo but the pernil, the traditional Puerto Rican pork shoulder. Not to be outdone, there were a couple of large pans of my stepmother’s delicious arroz con gandules. This was a Thanksgiving feast at its best! I believe we ate until we couldn’t eat another bite; hardly any room for dessert.









