Loving Through All Of It

Holy smokes! I’m beside myself with joy. I’m beside myself with excitement. I’m bursting with hope. Yes, I am.

Yes, it’s Mother’s Day (and I gotta admit, I love Mother’s Day), but the real reason I’m beside myself is because we, and I mean the big collective we—you, me, all of us—have a new pope: Pope Leo XIV. And an American one at that! For the first time in history!

Think about that, my friends. We are living right in the middle of a historic event. Let’s take it in. Let’s absorb the moment. It’s significant in so many ways, and it’s perfect timing.

We needed this. I needed this. I needed my hope raised, and voilà, along came this gift.

This is such a huge celebratory moment for American Catholics who have weathered so much—who have been rightly humiliated by all the Church scandals. But finally, we have something to celebrate.

Like the new pope, I was born in Chicago. In fact, he came into this world just two months before me. We both went to Jesuit colleges. He went to Villanova, I went to Georgetown.

Unlike me, he speaks five languages. He has two brothers (I have four). He served as an altar boy (so did all my brothers…I wasn’t allowed). He worked as a missionary in Peru! Chicago plus Peru! What a combination. It’s wonderful.

Earlier in the week, I found myself wondering whether there would ever be an American pope in my lifetime. I thought to myself: No, they wouldn’t do that. But then I thought—wait. It won’t be a European; they’ve done that over and over. It won’t be someone from Latin America; they’ve done that too. Maybe, just maybe, these guys are more politically savvy than we give them credit for.

Maybe, just maybe, they’re looking at America and saying: Why not put another powerful American voice on the world stage? Why not counterprogram, as we say in journalism? Why not show the world that, hey, there can be more than one powerful American guy on the world stage who might say different things, think differently, and guide us all upward into our higher selves?

I have no idea if that’s what all those shrewd cardinals were thinking, but it seems to make sense.

And then, to top it all off, this new pope is a devout follower of my girl Mary! He wants to elevate Mary.

He grew up in St. Mary’s parish in Chicago. His mother was president of St. Mary’s Altar and Rosary Society. He believes Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ, hasn’t been given her due.

I mean come on! As I write this, I have three Mary necklaces tangled around my neck. Mary is all over my house, all over my neck, and on my mind a lot. As in, all the time.

So when I heard the new pope had all the cardinals say the Hail Mary before he came out to give his first papal blessing, and that he said it’s time to elevate the most famous mother in the world…well, I just jumped up and down.

So on this Mother’s Day, I want to say Happy Mother’s Day to Mary and to everyone else celebrating. I also want to celebrate the new pope and the new feeling of hope that is palpable around the world, not to mention the south side of Chicago.

Every morning when I open my eyes, I pray to Mary and I pray to God. I thank God for the gift of my continuing life. But I know I wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for my parents, and in particular, for my mother.

So on Mother’s Day, I bow my head in homage to her. It also bow down to my daughter Katherine, and to all the mothers out there mothering, caring, nurturing, nourishing, protecting, teaching, supporting, guiding, and loving, loving, loving through all of it.

Motherhood is the toughest job any of us who do it will ever attempt to get right. It’s never-ending. It’s all-consuming. Getting it right is beyond fulfilling. Getting it wrong is beyond heartbreaking.

I’ve written a lot over the years about my mother (see my past essays on her and the 30 for 30 film I did on her). I’ve also written quite a bit about my own fears surrounding becoming a mother.

I didn’t have my first child until I was 34. Then I had four in rapid succession. Like so many women, I had a miscarriage. Like so many women, I struggled to combine mothering with a full-time job and being a wife and diligent daughter who eventually became a caregiver.

Like so many women, I also struggled with the complexities of motherhood on more than several occasions. Sometimes, I crumbled under the enormity of the job. Yes, I did.

I had a village helping me, supporting me, and guiding me. But every person who signs up for this job knows that the buck stops with you. Every mother knows the job is also often isolating, lonely, and overwhelming.

My daughter Christina sent me a viral video this week detailing the three things every mother supposedly needs if she is going to become a mother. She wrote one word to me next to the article: Yikes!

The young mother who made the post detailed the importance of a supportive partner, the resources to pay for all that comes with rearing a child, and the village that will have to step in—over and over—to help.

Her conclusion: If you don’t have these three things, it’s going to be really difficult.

I think she’s right. And it’s one of the many reasons so many young women are debating the overall “cost” of motherhood.

Then throw in the debate about our climate. Throw in the high price of childcare, the lack of flexibility in many jobs, medical care—the list goes on. It’s no wonder so many women are thinking twice about motherhood these days.

And I must say, that makes me sad. Sad for them. Sad for us, as a society. Sad for the idea of family.

When I look back on my time as a mother, what I remember most is the joy of it all. The fun of it. The honor of it.

Yes, I was exhausted (probably for decades). Yes, I was unprepared for how different each of my kids were, and how much thought, energy, and stamina would be required to parent them properly.

But the job I feared the most turned into the job I’ve loved the most. Yes, I had those three things the young mother listed. And for that, I’m grateful. I know I was and am blessed, which is one of the reasons I advocate so hard for help and support for women. Women’s health is a huge umbrella term. It encompasses not just the diseases that disproportionately impact women. It also includes maternal health and stress: emotional stress, financial stress, physical stress.

Women today are mothering and providing. They are caring for aging parents. They are burning the candle at both ends, and struggling to keep up with societal demands, family demands, and the unreasonable demands we put on ourselves. I see this every day, and it plays out in every way.

So on this Mother’s Day, may we take a page from the new pope and elevate the role of the mother in society.

May we hold the women who are trying to do it all gently in our collective embrace.

May we let them rest—on this day, and every day. May we reassure them that we see them and all they’re doing. May we let them know how much we honor them not just for what they do, but for who they are and how hard they try.

Yes, mothers are human. Strong and powerful, yes. But also fragile and tender.

They are fierce protectors and worn-out defenders.

May we work hard to build a country from the inside out that honors the life-affirming work they do—not just pay lip service to it on a national holiday. May we work harder at creating the compassionate, caring society they deserve.

Mothers need us to walk beside them during pregnancy, during childrearing, and yes, after the kids have grown and left. Because even though our children may no longer walk beside us, our work at mothering never ends until our lives end.

May we also remember that this day is complicated for so many women. Many suffer a deep, searing mother wound. Many have fraught and complicated relationships with their mothers. Many have had to draw boundaries with their mothers to save themselves.

On this day, may we be gentle. May we be kind.

We all share a common desire to be seen, to be loved, and to be held by our mothers. Sometimes it’s a great match. Sometimes, it’s not.

That brings me home to my mother. My mother was fierce, wicked smart, relentless, driven, passionate, loyal, fun, and unique. She wasn’t a cuddler. She was a motivator, a coach, and an instigator.

She didn’t teach me to cook. She didn’t like to shop. She didn’t like to do anything I saw the other mothers doing. She didn’t like to talk about feelings—hers or mine. She didn’t like to sit and rest. She was on the move, and only interested in people who wanted to move the world like she did.

I often wondered what it would’ve been like to have been mothered differently. But I know my mother loved me deeply. And I know I’m lucky to be her only daughter.

I’m deeply grateful for the mother I had—and still have—as we still communicate, even though she’s been gone for quite some time. I’ve learned how to step in and mother myself in the places I needed.

And you know what else? She was a devoted Mary follower herself. In fact, she made a TV movie on Mary called Mary, Mother of Jesus!

She would be out of her mind with joy about Pope Leo XIV. She would’ve called me on day one and told me, “Go to Rome immediately and try to get an interview with him.”

And when I’d say, “Mummy, I can’t. NBC won’t let me. They’ll have someone else do it,” she’d say, “Forget about them! You don’t need them anyway. Just go do it yourself!”

That was her. She believed I could do anything, and that I should always try.

So, happy Mother’s Day, Mummy. I love you.

And to my fellow mamas and Mama Gs: I see you and I salute you—on this day and every day. Know that I’m walking with you, day in and day out.

I got you. Happy Mother’s Day. Let’s go.