Mothers & Brothers

A sad part of being a Police Officer's wife, is attending the funerals of other officers. To watch another family go through what you pray doesn't happen to your family is difficult for anyone, but a police officer's death makes it a little too close. A few months ago we attended Shane Figueroa's funeral and I watched his young widow with their 3 month old daughter. She was surrounded by close family, friends, and hundreds of uniformed Police Officers who may not have known him personally but came because he is considered a brother to them, one of their own. The funeral was attended by the Governor, Phoenix Mayor, and Sherriff Joe.
It got me thinking about 'brothers' in law. They really support each other because they know how difficult their jobs are. Most are especially courteous to families of officers as well which is how I got out of a well deserved ticket once. They morn the loss of an officer and some, like my husband, remember those who pass in some way. Chris usually arrests a Drunk Driver that night.
But what about Mothers. We all know how hard our job is and how much we could use that extra support and courtesy. Imagine if all women Funerals for mothers are attended by families, and mothers are missed at what ever age they leave us, but we don't really view it as 'losing one of our own' do we. It's not attended by every mother in the area. Even when my Brother and Sister-in-law lost their only child, I did not consider the tragedy as 'losing a Mother'. Her potential for mothering is still there and her love for the next child and all children she serves is just as strong.
Do you remember Andrea Yates? A mother who drowned her five children. That's where I consider the tragedy as losing one of my own. A woman, who lost her love and ability to mother. The whole event is a tragedy and I do not mean to make light of her troubled life. She had mental problems, which her husband new about, and had arranged to have his Mom come help her out later that morning. But a part of the Police officer's words who arrived at the scene stuck out to me. He said when they arrived after the 911 call they found her "in a frumpy stripped shirt and stringy hair". It made me think of some of those days when I didn't think anyone cared how I looked and I ended up wearing a frumpy shirt the whole day. It's days like that when I am not as pleasant to be around and am not the Mom I want to be. How I feel about me reflects on how I treat my kids. When I am wearing a fun out fit I feel fun for my kids, when I look nice, I act nice and try to smile and give my family a pleasant person to look at. Trivial but true. So as I mulled over Officer Figueroa's funeral and 'brothers' and my work as a mother, I have decided to morn for Andrea Yates and mothers like her who didn't get the help they needed in time, who didn't have a support group to tell her days are hard, please just hang in there, it gets better.
So I am picking my frumpiest shirt (My husband will be so thrilled) and I am burning it. Not the college shirt I like to run in, or my painting and yard work shirt. The one that almost looked nice once and that I still put on when I'm going to mop and then keep on because I'd just get spit-up on me next and why have to wash another shirt any way! No, it must go! If I could see you, any of my fellow Mothers, and you are wearing your frumpy shirt, I would love to take you out for lunch, make sure you are ok, and then convince you to burn your shirt. Mothers Unite! After all, we mothers need to stick together!