Mother’s Day Tribute
Caption: My Mother and I didn’t always see eye to eye, but every once in a while, we did!
Because there are gaps in the ages of my siblings, we each have very different memories of our parents – especially our mother!
The fondest memories of my mom were the daily emails through AOL Prodigy (way before social media), in the middle of the night in my early thirties, after giving birth to my first newborn son. My mother was right on the other side of the computer or the phone. As a new mom, I had loads of questions, and I just needed someone to talk to. Any time.
Night or Day.
I used to keep those emails in a big black binder. I sure wish I had them now.
Growing up, my mother happily went along with whatever “career” I was pursuing at the time. She did not lead me in any one direction – in fact, I felt like a fish out of water several times. I wanted to be a missionary. Then, an accountant, physical therapist, public relations specialist, and then a human resources administrator. My mother accepted me for who I was, except, of course, my hair. She did not like how I did my hair – no matter how I styled it. But that was okay – I learned to ignore it.
I also remember not-so-great things. One time, Mom said I could not have a Jewish person for my best friend. That was when I was five years old. Then, a few years later, maybe 10 years old, she said I could not have a Catholic girl for my best friend. At the time, I couldn’t really argue with her, but something inside of me thought it was pretty odd.
I began to realize then that religion and faith were very different. Were we really reading the same Bible? Were we really attending the same Church? It was so strange that my family seemed so different from the other families who attended our non-denominational Church. Anyway, I am grateful that my mother raised me in faith and supported my faith walk even though she always tried to convert me to her way of thinking. Toward the end of her life, she became more accepting and even supported my nieces who had gay friends. That was an enormous change in mindset for my mom, and for that, I am grateful.
My mother and father dragged us to Church, kicking and screaming each Sunday. It was miserable. But, sometimes, I actually liked going to Church. I remember in 7th grade getting up at 6 a.m. in the morning to attend a bible study at 7:00 a.m. in the summer. My parents supported anything “Christian,” except a car ride at 7:00 a.m., so – off I went and rode my bike to Church.
Growing up – our meals were primarily gray. My mother was the type of mother who tried to cook but wasn’t any good at it. She seemed to love using a pressure cooker where the round steel top would blow off every once in a while, causing quite an explosion. Once my dad retired, he because the Chef of the house – and boy, was he ever creative! I laughed. It was funny. (I promise to fill you in next month for Father’s Day.)
Another virtue that I admired in my mother was her encouragement of my physical activity. It would seem quite normal for most people, but you didn’t know my mom. She hated physical activity. She once told me how she hated the gym when she went to high school. I loved it.
Ah, high school. My mother did not really push me at all academically. In fact, she didn’t want me to work as hard as my older sister did. In a weird way, I felt as though she favored my sister over me. Again, mothers are not perfect. I could never compete with my sister, who seemed to be the most intelligent person in the whole wide world, and that was okay. God makes us all different and unique.
I remember riding my bike everywhere. Even on Route 46 from Clifton to Totowa. Looking back, I was quite a risk-taker. Danger didn’t compute with me at all – probably because I had a deep faith realizing that when my ticket was up – it was up – no matter what I did or didn’t do. I learned to trust God and PRAY when crossing significant highways on a purple bicycle I bought myself.
Mother’s Day is a day to honor all the moms who have nurtured a child or spent time trying their darndest.
Moms are not perfect.
Not my mom.
Not her mom.
And, certainly not ME!
Today, I honor my mom. The mother of four children – each child seemingly having a different mother. She was by no means perfect. And I know she did the best she could and made the best decisions for her and her family at the time. She was a constant in my life. The good and the bad. She was my confidant. She was the one I called at 2:00 a.m. when I just felt overwhelmed as a new mom myself.
So, go ahead. Call YOUR mother and wish her a HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!
One day, she might not be on this earth to answer your call.
Call to Action: Share, Like, Follow, Comment. I would love to know what you learned from your mother.