Motherly Love

Holding On and Letting Go

Editor’s Note: Fr. Ben Daghir wrote this letter to mothers at a parish program on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, December 8th, 2022. 

Dear mothers, 

St. Marys, Pennsylvania, 1997, Walmart.

My twin brother (Luke) and I were just five years old.

My brother and I making a mess.

We were with our mother, Roben Daghir, as she was heading into Walmart to get groceries for our family. When my mother, my brother, and I walked through the Walmart front door she let go of our hands and went for a grocery cart. In an instant, Luke and I were gone. We ran off in opposite directions throughout Walmart. 

Our mother started to cry. 

Luke and I at our pre-school graduation with our parents, Joe and Roben (1997).

Twenty-five years later, Luke and I recently hugged our mother after spending time with her during Thanksgiving break. Luke let go of her hand and went back to the seminary in Baltimore. I let go of her hand and returned to DuBois to celebrate Mass. Funny how things change over time. Funny how she doesn’t have to chase us anymore.

The Daghir family and Bishop Lawrence T. Persico at my priesthood ordination on May 27, 2022.

Motherhood, much like how God works in our lives, must be a marathon approach. It must be a journey, an adventure. It demands patience, I know this for certain - my brother and I are quite good at testing it in our mother. It also demands so much more, every son knows this.

Image of “The Virgin Mary holding Jesus.” This was a gift that I bought for my mother while studying in Guatemala. It’s made from coffee beans. It currently hangs in my parent’s kitchen.

Abraham Lincoln is credited with the words, “Everything I am or hope to be, I owe to my mother.” Twenty-five years ago when our mother let go of our hands, my brother and I ran into Walmart without a destination. Now, we let go of her hand with a purpose, a mission, a passion, an adventure. These are all words for a vocation that is fostered in the hands of a delicate balance. 

Mothers always balance holding on and letting go.

An embrace with my mother at the Mass of Thanksgiving that I celebrated in my hometown of Saint Marys, Pennsylvania.

My mom knows when to hold my hand and when to let go. My mother has held onto my hand at times when I wanted to let go, and she has let go of my hand at times when I wanted to hold on.

The Daghir family: Roben, Luke, Nick, me, and Joe. Photo taken in 2015 when Pope Francis visited Philadelphia.

Like Lincoln, who I am and who I hope to be, I owe to my mother because of her remarkable gift of holding on and letting go which has helped me to discover God’s plan.

To all mothers, know how important you are to the Church in helping your children discover God’s unique plan for them.

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+ Fr. Ben Daghir