Merriam Webster defines endurance as “the ability to withstand hardship or adversity.” It’s a wonderfully nonspecific definition, implying there are endless forms of endurance.
Inspired by my wife’s recent birthday, I’d like to speak of a remarkable form of endurance I regularly witness from her and other moms.
Dare I say, I’m pretty fit, and in at least the realm of a cardio-focused activities, I have solid endurance. And this is the type of endurance that most often gets recognized and praised. However, this form of endurance ain’t shit. There are many ways one can endure, and many of them are easily as difficult as any physical endeavor.
I shall give an anecdote, and while it would be better if it were originally from me, it’s not. I should’ve lied and said it was, but it’s too late now. It’s actually from my wife. Recently, I left her at a homely if not semi-trashy lake resort deep in the woods of Oregon for several hours, as I went off to climb a mountain, a pursuit of physical endurance. Don’t get me wrong, I like this resort, it’s just not classy, or pretentious. It’s simple, and that’s cool. Anyways, when I returned to the resort to regroup with my family, my wife relayed a story of her watching a mother over several hours with her teenage son down at the lakeshore. The boy, who had some form of intellectual disability, was having an audibly great time playing down at the beach, repeatedly going back and forth between the water and the sand. His mother unwaveringly stood by for hours as he played. Always calm. Always patient. Undistracted and present with her son. She didn’t get frustrated, wishing she could be elsewhere, indulging or focusing on herself. No, she prioritized her son’s safety and happiness. She saw the joy her son was experiencing while splashing in the water, his repetitive actions followed by his same joyous responses. She allowed him to continue as long as he wished, knowing how happy it was making him. Side note: this included fact about the boy’s intellectual status sort of feels like the modern version of oldschool grandpa who always identifies if someone is a person of color in his story, but I feel like this detail is important in my case, so I will risk being the modern version of unintentionally inappropriate grandpa.
Personally, I find it hard enough to stand anywhere- a beach, field, playground, living room- for 10 minutes without devising a game or some other way to make things interesting, or requiring that we move on and do something else altogether. Often, it is me and my own need for novelty and stimulation that drives me to tell my kids what they should do and how they should do it, rather than leaving them be and letting them decide for themselves.
One must remember this is a sliver of this mom’s life that we’re discussing. This is her life 24/7 and likely has been for the last 15 years, essentially non-stop, with likely no endpoint for the foreseeable future. Of course, there are likely times of parental imperfection where she isn’t so patient, kind, or loving, and maybe she gets the occasional short break, but by and large, she is perennially there for her child and giving him her best. A mother’s endurance truly is a humbling and beautiful thing.
Maybe I’m romanticizing this mother and her steadfast commitment, but I don’t think so. I’m aware of too many cases of moms with undeniable endurance. My wife puts me to shame with her efforts. I’m constantly impressed by her ability to give herself to our family. Make no mistake, I’m a good dad, definitely above average, but I’m no mom. It’s like moms have this special hidden energy reserve of love that endlessly fuels them in the face of utter exhaustion. Dads will crumple, but moms will persevere ad infinitum.
I love my kids and my wife so damn much. And still, this is an endurance I’ll never know. I suppose I’m still too impatient and selfish. I think I have unachieved ambition within me that makes me angsty. I don’t really have a great excuse. All I know is that I’ll never live up to these mothers like my own wife and my own mom who so consistently and neverendingly give to others, happily and without complaint, day in, day out. It’s fucking impressive. They are true champions of endurance. Respect, ladies, respect.
Yolo 69 420 