More than

One of my dearest friends is at the wedding of her God son today and it has me thinking a lot.  You see, we say God son because that’s what the world understands, but this relationship is more than that.  When I say I’m an aunt people know what that means.  There is a place in their brains for that relationship.  I’m not a mother, I’m an aunt.  My friend isn’t a “real” mother, she’s “just” the God mother.  This morning as I anxiously check my phone for pictures and excitedly text her, it is because she and I are part of another group.  One that is more private, less discussed and one that Hallmark doesn’t make a card for yet.  We are More Than.  We didn’t birth children and wouldn’t ever want to take away the role their mothers claim.  But we are more than our titles suggest to the children in our lives.  We are not just aunts or God mothers.  We are “other” mothers.  In both cases, mine and my friend’s, we walked the floor with sick children, tended to cuts and scrapes, cooked countless meals, did laundry and sat up late with homework assignments.  We have used up sick leave, financially and emotionally supported them and expect phone calls and texts from them regularily, all outside of a parental role.  These kids were raised by a village and we were second in command.  When my nephew married two years ago, my sister, brother in law and I stood together in the church.  When the church rose to watch the bride come in, his mother and I instictively turned to him and were so overcome my brother in law didn’t know which of us to give a tissue to first.  I know so many people think of us as “just” aunties or God mothers, but we are “more than” that.  So, I will be excitedly checking my phone all day because in the words of my friend, her  “baby is getting married today!”