Being Tommy's Mom

Photo credit: Patrick

One afternoon about a year ago, I was at the gas station. A woman I didn't recognize approached me as I was filling our van with fuel. "Are you Tommy's Mom?" she asked. "Yes," I replied. "Oh," she continued, "I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am that he was there to help my daughter." She then told me what a good influence Tommy had been in a challenging time.

"Are you Tommy's Mom?" I had been asked a few weeks earlier by a different woman. "Yes," I said. "Well," she said, "You probably already know this, but he is such a great kid." And she proceeded to tell me how my oldest son's actions had helped her and her family.

A friend of mine who worked with Tommy last year reminds me every once in awhile how impressed she was with his level of responsibility in a challenging work situation.

In the wee hours of the morning on May 5, 1989, my first child was born. It happened in the usual way with an anxious phone call to a midwife followed by an anxious drive from Silver Spring, Maryland, down to Georgetown, John trying to drive both quickly and gently as we navigated the construction on the Beltway. Each bump set off another painful contraction.

We arrived safely, and about 3 hours later, so did Tommy. I was a night law student at the time while working full-time in a firm downtown. I was exhausted as I held that small, warm bundle. Exhausted and exhilarated. And frightened. And wondrous. "Hello, little baby, we love you," I had said before we even knew he was "he". I have continued to say it as we have gotten to know who "he" is.

He is a gentle young man with an open heart and a cheerful manner. He is a conscientious young man who is learning to make his own way in the world. He is a talkative young man who stops to listen to the difficulties of others. He is sometimes a slow mover, but takes immediate action when needed. He is a thoughtful young man with a lively sense of humor. He has had his share of hurts and troubles, but his spirit of perseverance keeps him looking up, his eyes on the eternal goal.


As a new mother, I was for a time uncomfortable with the name "Tommy's Mom". Influenced by the writing in popular women's magazines, I worried that it lessened my value, my dignity, to be labeled by the name of my child. I was young and ambitious and focused on worldly success. I wanted to be known by my own name for my own achievements. As time went on, I first accepted the inevitability of the name. Then I grew to understand that Tommy, and any of our children whose names have become part of mine, is a daily gift of grace and love to our family and to the world. In giving me this child to nurture and love, God did not limit my dignity. He increased it.

When I was first called "Tommy's Mom" I did not appreciate the honor that was being given to me. But I do now. When someone asks me if I am Tommy's Mom, I respond,"Yes," with a grateful, joyful heart.

Happy 20th birthday to my dear son. May God grant you many years.