Mother’s Love: To Protect and Serve

My son, Robert, and his bride of a few months, quit their jobs and were traveling across the country before settling down in one place to open their own bakery. They had come to visit me in Southern California for a few days and talk about their plans. On a cloudy, Wednesday morning after I inspected their beat-up truck for anything dangerous, and questioned them about flares, first aid kits, and flashlights, they left for a few days of camping at Sequoia National Park. From there they were going on to Arizona.

As the weather turned ugly in the northern California Mountains and the days passed with no word, my mind drew dire pictures of what might have befallen them. Mothers worry no matter how old their children are. Each day the visions became worse. Thinking I might be overly concerned, I called my daughter-in-law’s mother to see if she was worried. She was frantic. Monday morning, five days and six nights after they had left my home, I decided that I should report them as missing. What if they really were injured, freezing and dying, trapped in their truck on the side of a cliff 2 where they had perhaps slid-off unseen due to the heavy snow as I now imagined?

The young sheriff who came to my house to take the report was kind and compassionate. While I answered his questions about their height, weight, distinguishing characteristics, and provided him with a recent picture of the two, he asked for the name of their dentist where records could be obtained if necessary. A cold cloud of concern settled over me. I felt remote and clinical and afraid to be afraid. My mind kept telling me this exercise was unnecessary because they were fine. At the same time I felt convinced they were destined to be a statistic. These conflicting scenarios volleyed back and forth like an endless tennis match. The experience of filing a missing persons report was horrific and will be with me forever.

But I was lucky. The deputy had no sooner left, and filed his report than the kids called me to wish me a happy Valentine’s Day. They didn’t understand why the family was so worried; after all, they knew they were fine. They were adults, why didn’t we realize that.

It struck me that like the deputy who took the report was dedicated to “serve and protect,” so were the mothers of the world. I feel that the reason so many parents are accused by their children of being overly protective is because they do not understand what drives a mother to worry. I was notangry with the kids for being irresponsible and for causing me so much anguish because I now realize that they did not understand the root of my concern. I e-mailed my son the following, in hopes that if he had a view into a mother’s heart and mind, maybe he would find it easier to ease her worry in the future.