By William R. Mattox Jr. (a member of USA Today’s Board of Contributors)
Twenty years ago, I found myself in the kind of situation every first-time parent fears the most. It was 3 a.m., and I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in the eight weeks since Allison’s triumphant entry into our world. Night after night, my wife and I had taken turns trying to get our daughter to sleep peacefully.
On this particular night, I tried every trick I knew to calm Allison. I rocked her. Walked her. Burped her. Changed her. Held her. Read to her. Sang to her. Hummed to her. But still she cried. No, make that wailed.
At the height of her wailing, I heard an inner voice say, Long ago, someone was there for you at times like these.
At that instant, I was filled with a profound appreciation for my mother. It occurred to me that she had made numerous sacrifices for me, including many that I would not even remember.
Looking back, I consider that night the most frustrating night of my parenting career. But it was also the most glorious, for in a moment of desperation, I had learned this spiritual truth: We love because we were first loved.
Happy Mother’s Day, Moms!
