Women are the people who quietly go about the world doing wonderful things that few people ever notice. They make sure the everyone in the family has clean socks and underwear. They work at work and work at home doing their magic to keep everything running smoothly. They schedule and chauffeur and stay up long after everyone else is asleep doing laundry or preparing lunches for the next day. Women do these things automatically, rarely asking for credit and often seeming to be invisible. It is only when they get sick or injured or die that we sometimes realize just how much they have been doing. We can’t believe how much things fall apart when they are gone.
It is difficult being a woman. We tend not to make as much money as men for the very same jobs. When children are sick it is often left to the women to take time off from work. Women are usually the ones who remember birthdays and special events. They take care of purchasing gifts and visiting elderly friends and family members. Sometimes we marvel at everything that they do. At other times we almost take their countless efforts for granted. Who really thinks about why that toilet is so clean or how the apples that we enjoy so much found their way into our refrigerator?
Women lovingly and willingly stretch themselves so thinly that they sometimes neglect their own needs. I remember my Grandma Minnie Bell hiding pain so long that when it finally became unbearable she was diagnosed with stage 4 untreatable cancer. My Grandma Ulrich kept mopping her floors every single day, making dinner for her sons, and cheerfully offering coffee to anyone who came to visit until one day she did not have the strength to get out of bed. A visit to a doctor revealed that she had end stage cancer as well.
Stories such as these are not so uncommon with women. They hide all kinds of pain and worry and sorrows because they know that they have duties beyond themselves. They push and push themselves until they have no more energy to keep going. Even as they recuperate they make lists of things that must be done. They know the calendar by heart. They can drive the routes to schools and ball fields and swimming pools blindfolded. Their dedication is super human and yet much of what they do seems so small until they are not doing it anymore.
Women find it difficult to let go and just take care of themselves. They may instinctively know that life should be more than just a to-do list but worry about who will actually accomplish the tasks that need to be done if they give in to every ache and pain that comes their way. It’s easier said than done to take a break to parse their many duties and eliminate the ones that don’t seem to matter as much.
Perhaps they can let dust settle on the furniture but bathrooms and kitchens need to be clean and healthy. Maybe they can skip folding the clothes after they have been washed but some items wrinkle so easily inside a piled high basket. Not every woman can afford to hire someone to come and do the heavy cleaning and so they do their best to keep the routines moving smoothly lest their worlds collapse into chaos.
I am haunted by a story that I have often told of a woman who worked three different jobs just to keep a roof over her head and that of her son. He worried constantly about her because she would leave early in the morning and return close to midnight. Sometimes she was so exhausted that she fell asleep in her car, unable to even walk inside. Other times she made it as far as the living room couch where she would lie grabbing a few hours sleep before doing her work all over again. Her legs and ankles were swollen and painful but she had to hide her pain. Hers was an extreme story but not so unlike so many women simply trying to keep the engines of their lives moving forward.
This is not to say that men do not also have their problems, it is only to point out that we all too often underestimate the extent to which women silently sacrifice themselves for others even as they know that their efforts will go unheard and unseen. They do what they do because they love, not for laurels or anything other than the joy of knowing that they are tackling jobs that are much more important than they may seem to be.
It has been this way since the beginning of time. The mothers and daughters and sisters and female friends almost automatically become caretakers. They see those who came before them making soup for the sick, pushing themselves even when they are bone tired. They remember mothers who came to check on them in the middle of the night. Mothers were the ones they called when they were afraid or when their fevered heads hurt. They cuddled in the warmth of their mothers’ hugs and shed their tears knowing that women would make everything right.
When I get down I often need to find a woman with whom to share my feelings, bare my thoughts. I know that most women will understand why it is important to get better to be able to take care of others. They will know how difficult it is to just rest when things must be done. They can show me how to take a break for just long enough to get my super powers working once again. Women are remarkable like that. I am thankful for all that they do.
All It Takes Is A Little Love 