An ode to the mothers in my life and their uncanny ability to make everything around them brighter.

Nobody understands sacrifice like moms. Study almost any news story or piece of history, and you will see countless examples of moms who have sacrificed their bodies and personal ambitions to make way for others, be it their kids, partners, or complete strangers.

In a society where individualism takes center stage, sacrifice is viewed as a cute story to be shown during the final 30 seconds of your nightly news, yet chances are you are a result of a mom's sacrifice. I know I am.

My life was made possible by the sacrifices of my Grandmother, who worked tirelessly at our family restaurant, The Trading Post in Lake George, NY, for nearly 40 years. As a kid, I’d see my Grandma handling payroll, taking in shipments, and doing the literal dirty work in a restaurant that she equally owned with my Grandfather, who, God bless him, didn’t do half the work that she did.

And there’s my Mom. Early in my childhood, especially after my father left, she worked multiple jobs to keep us afloat. This included a 9–5 at the County office, a real estate license to sell homes on the side, and even waitressing at my Grandparent's restaurant, which she had practically done her whole life.

Every move she made was to align her entire life with my basketball schedule, my Christmas, and Sunday afternoon cookouts with my family. Even now, if I ask her about these decisions, she’ll respond with one sentence; “That’s what parents do.”

And then there’s my wife.

This year has been challenging for me. That sentence is no stranger to many in the world of Recruiting professionals, but after building skills and connections over ten years, there is an assumption that things will just kind of work out. I’ve gained experience in People Operations, Talent Management, Employee Relations, Applicant Track Systems, data-driven interviewing, etc. But let me tell you, many people in the job market have those same skill sets.

So when I take a break from completing job applications, and I run into an old friend at a kid’s birthday party who asks, “What are you up to these days?” I struggle to answer honestly, dreading the response of, “Oh, you’re smart. You’ll figure things out,” when the reality is I’m not sure I will.

There’s an exhilaration that comes with identifying the next step. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a tiny bit excited after getting laid off from a company where I didn’t feel like I fit, but man, as those “no’s” start piling up on applications, those lows come fast and tend to keep you down longer than you expected.

But on my lowest, most humbling days, I am lucky enough to call myself Allie’s husband.

This is a woman who, after seven years of working part-time, didn’t flinch at returning to work full-time when I lost my job.

When I hear “no” from an organization I was excited about, Allie’s the first to say, “They don’t deserve you.”

Allie even convinced me to file paperwork for my own business, saying, “Maybe this is the direction you’ve been called to go all along.”

This journey has been challenging in obvious ways for me, but it’s also been hard on her. She could blame me for not seeing this professional change sooner. She could resent me for her need to go back to work full-time. When anxiety would make most snap, Allie can facilitate an honest conversation about our fears and hopes and reassure me of what she told me ten years ago; I am always by your side.

For almost seven years, I’ve seen how motherhood has heightened the best features of my wife. Joy, love, and the ability to bring light into any room or situation. Parenting by her side has been the privilege of a lifetime, and I mean that with every bone in my body.

Our tenth anniversary is right around the corner, and by all accounts, it’ll look significantly different than either of us had anticipated a year ago. But no matter where we are, what title I hold, or what clients I’ll be working with, Allie’s sacrifice, like my Mom’s and my Grandma’s, is an act I will spend eternity working to honor.

What Did We Do to Deserve Moms?

An ode to the mothers in my life and their uncanny ability to make everything around them brighter.