When I was born, while my mother was still in the hospital, a Special Transmitter was surgically inserted into her. This Special Transmitter is a secret among all mothers the world over. No one except other mothers get to know about it.
They call it Mother’s Intuition. And it can be as powerful as God.
When I was young, I used to imagine the ceremonial swearing in of new mothers. Someone important, who vaguely resembled my image of God, would swear my mother in. She would raise her right arm and swear to protect me. This was usually followed by something like, “I swear to know the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, no matter what my kid tries to tell me, so help me God.” At this point, God would agree to let her know, via the Special Transmitter, exactly when, where, and why her kid was lying. The appropriate punishment for the lying child was left up to the mother. That the benefit part of being a mom.
Over the years, as I baby-sat, taught swimming lessons, and entered the field of education, I began to understand that sometimes children are just so transparent that it doesn’t take any special transmitter to know when they are lying. But there have been enough experiences in my own life when my mother has amazed me that I have no doubt that Mother’s Intuition is the most powerful weapon in the world.
Like in eleventh grade, after we’d had a big fight and she warned me not to leave the house. But I did, and a car accident ensued. Mother knew best.
Like the day after I moved to college and couldn’t get my long distance calling to work. There was no doubt in my mind: If I don’t talk to her right now, I’ll just die! … and the phone rang. Mother’s intuition.
Like spring break of my senior year of college. “Bring home your suit just in case. You never know who may call for an interview!” “Mom,” I sighed patiently, “nothing’s going to happen in five days. I’m not that lucky.” But I know better than to ignore Mother’s Intuition and brought it home anyway, and when the phone call came for an interview, I was barely even surprised. After all, mothers know best.
Like when she said, “I just know if you can get an interview, you’ll get the job.” “But I don’t have that great of a feeling about it. I think he’s just calling me to tell me they hired someone else.” “If you can get an interview, you’ll get the job.” Mother knew best.
I was never one of those teenagers who took my mother for granted. I knew I had a great one. My friends envied me because she was so great. But it doesn’t cease to amaze me that even despite that, the older I get, the more I realize that even in the smallest matters, my mom always knows best.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mum. You’re the best…but then, if you know anything, you already know that.
