I once read an online news article about a guy in India who wanted to sue his parents for, well, bringing him into the world, i.e., giving birth to him. I don’t know if the court battle really did happen. It could have been a publicity hoax by some local tabloids that BBC later caught on. Taken from an isolated viewpoint, his argument sounds pretty solid. We don’t consent to be born into an existence of “lifelong suffering” as the BBC put it, and the very purpose of our entire existence is, at best, debatable. Plus aren’t we just slowly killing off our beloved home planet and hence heading towards the inevitable Doomsday?
As a person verging on being something of a Camuist absurdist myself – and often veering towards nihilistic thoughts – I am bound to commiserate with this guy. That is, if not for my mother.
Now, I happen to think that fathers are quite a different breed when it come to the topic of parentage – at least, they used to be. And I happen to think that in some cases, suing irresponsible fathers for the innumerable sufferings they bring to mothers and children can be very, very appropriate.
But sue our mothers for being our, well, mothers?
I realize that by the unfortunate twists of some probabilistic events, a few mothers may not be as gracious as other. History has a couple examples to show for it. But for the teeming majority, I trust that I can talk using my own experience as testimony to show that mothers are universal life-preserving gods, literally.
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My mother married my father in her late teens. Since then, she has birthed, bathed and brought up half a dozen sons without much help from anyone, really. No, no daughters, unfortunately. She put up with an aged mother in her early Twenties, suffered the needs of a well-intentioned-but-alcoholic partner and seen through the births of many grandsons and granddaughters (with many more on the way, I hope!) And I know that as a kid, my brothers and I weren’t the easiest lot to control. So, I think of all the hardships she endured , singlehandedly, of course – the drudgery of feeding and milking the cattle, tending to the crops all while being a mother to 8 sons. To this day, she puts her frail frame together to take care of the cows and do most of the milking on the farm. She says working makes her rheumatic discomforts go away. I doubt. But, boy, do I realize all super heroes don’t wear capes!
So on Mother’s Day 2019, I am writing this with my mother in my heart – although, forever the prodigal son myself, I am yet to give back to her for all she has done for me. I am writing this epistle to try to share an honest personal testimonial – that yes, we don’t choose to be born let alone who we want our parents to be, and yes, we might suffer some terrible fates in our lives, but that is the very nature of our existence. Parents bring us into the world (as we will, one day, do so with our own kids) and that is easy to dismiss as some selfish – or rather thoughtless – act (although I personally really don’t subscribe to this bs view). But at the end of the day, I have to realize our mothers for who they are – our real superheroes. With so much love and care do they give us a world to not only live but thrive in too.
So, thank you mother-ji! I ardently hope one day I will get to be a better son with a family of my own 😉
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