Debbie Talley

If you’re reading this article, then you have a mother. She may or may not be in your life, and the circumstances of your relationship may not be ideal. But you have a mother — biological or not, alive or not.

A mother’s touch transcends DNA; it is the way one heart nurtures another. It took me a couple of years to realize the lasting impressions I have the privilege to offer my own sons. It happened when my first son was sick.

I worked for an exacting, strict woman with little understanding for sick children. I have supportive parents who care deeply for their grandchildren, but I struggled with leaving my son with my parents so that I could appease the demands of work. My heart told me stay home with my son but I selfishly wanted to avoid the repercussions from my boss.

I took my son to the doctor who diagnosed him with a nasty case of RSV, a serious respiratory virus that takes months of recovery. Thrown into the classic struggle of the roles of a working mom, I shared my problem with my dad. What he said has resonated with me to this day and is the litmus test for my actions as a mom. Plain and simple, he said, “What a kid wants when he is sick, more than anything or anyone else, is his mother. No one else can replace you.”

That was it — game over — the struggle vanished. Motherhood won, hands down. In a split second, I remembered as a child that no matter how much trouble I had caused her a minute before - my mother cared deeply the moment I was hurt or sad or ill. I remember the gentle sweep of her hand across my forehead to check for a fever. The cool terry-cloth towel folded neatly in a small rectangle that replaced her hand. The smell of chicken noodle soup at my bedside and savoring sips of ice cold water. The comfort of nestling against her as I rested my head, foggy and heavy with a cold.

No one in the world could have replaced those feelings and memories. No one in the world can replace her.

I have always known that I would care, protect, love, and heal my children to the best of my ability. For me, it’s unconditional — it’s instinct. Along with my own, I have many children that I care about. I might not have given birth to them, but whenever one of my kid’s friends is sick or is hungry or just needs attention, my instincts take charge. If any child looks lost or needs help, I feel a need to protect her from whatever dangers are out there. Motherhood kicks in.

That’s the way mothers work. They work from the heart and your heart will remember them ... it’s the memory of a mother’s touch.

Debbie Talley, a Randolph RoHawk, UTSA and Baylor alum, can be reached at: This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it