This weekend we celebrate Mother’s
Day. This is the day that phone lines stay busy half the day because everyone
wants to call Mom and catch up for a bit. You can almost smell the flowers, can’t
you? Moms put up with a lot of …. well, for lack of a better word…. CRAP. On
top of the crap, moms deal with a revitalized upheaval of men telling them how
much they should make, how long they should get maternity leave and what if
any, of their basic rights they should be ALLOWED to have. For those lucky
enough to still have their moms with them, for at least that one day, I hope
they swallow those words and give their mom ALL the praise she deserves.
We see the rhetoric against women every
day, but do we stop to think there is a mom behind that person delivering such
rhetoric? Do we stop to think of what she may be thinking or how she’s feeling?
I know my first thought after listening to some of these people is how they can
kiss their moms with those mouths; not only their moms, but their wives; the
mother of their children (insert perfect family photo op here). To those long
suffering, held in the background, BACK BONE of the family I say Happy Mother’s
Day to you! These men know, without mom and wife, they wouldn’t be here. Let’s
see them bear children, nurse them when they’re sick, show up at all school
functions and a plethora of other things. Now, I do realize there are some men
that do these things, sit down and shut up, I’ll get to you in June.
On a serious note, this is the
second Mother’s Day without my mom. Now, don’t get all sappy and start saying
things like “prayers are with you” or “thinking of you” and whatever other
cornball thing that is at the tip of your tongue. My mom and I had one of the rockiest
relationships (again no cornball crap) and believe me; she found the most interesting
ways to really mess up Mother’s Day. Growing up, Mother’s Day in our house
consisted of going to our church and then going to church with my moms’ mom. It
wouldn’t have been bad except, I hated sitting there listening to some bonehead
lecture about what a wonderful blessing mother’s are and how they should be
revered, yet they could have no active role in the church. Then the day would
get worse at my grandma’s church, it was a Catholic Mass in Latin. What the
hell were those people saying?!!!. All the kids had to go be blessed by the
priest and this is where I tended to get in trouble. I refused to go up, not
only did I embarrass my grandma; I seriously pissed off my mom in front of her
mom. Of course, me being me, I loved every minute of it. I would simply say I
refused to go up and have some guy, that was already half way to drunk, touch
my forehead and bless me in Latin after praying to a frickin’ statue. Yep,
stubborn way back then.
My brother and I always had to make
cards in school; it was interesting to say the least. My brother would always
try to make something special to add to the card. He would tell my mom he was going
to be an inventor. Of course, there I was standing there telling him what an
idiot he was because he spelled inventor wrong. Ahhh family love! On top of
making cards at school, mom would take us to the store to pick out cards for
our grandmas. My brother would always find some pretty cool cards; me on the
other hand, I just stood there staring at the Hallmark section saying I can’t
find anything, I can write better sappy stuff than this. Now at that age, I
doubt if I could write better sappy stuff, but it was a good case to try to
present. My main arguing point (seems I argue about everything, huh?) was that
my grandma’s never got me a card or anything so why am I standing here wasting
my time looking for cards. Not only did I lose the argument, I think my behind
was burning a bit when I went to sit down.
It’s fun to recall childhood stories
you’ve had with your mom. I think as we age we learn to appreciate them just a
little more. Some are funny and some are depressing; they are all true and that’s
what shapes us as moms to our kids. Sometimes recalling these stories does act
as a quasi therapy, oooh free benefits! I often wonder what stories my son
tells about me and what stories will he tell his kids. Oh to be a fly on his
walls! Scratch that, he’d probably squish me and watch me splatter. I can only
hope my son has fond, funny memories of his life growing up. I know I’ve
laughed more than one parent should, but I’ve also shed some tears. There are
times when I feel I have the most ungrateful, unappreciative son in the world.
I’m sure all moms feel that at some point. Through the turbulence of watching
some creature become a human being, then morphing into a man, I can happily say
I have enjoyed being a Mother. Good, bad, happy or sad; everyday has been
Mother’s Day and I’ve been very lucky.
Keep the stories and the laughter
close to your heart. Appreciate what you’ve been taught. No matter how it was
taught, trust that there was a lesson for you to learn and grow from. For those
that had or have less than stellar relationships with your moms, there’s a
lesson there as well. I think for me it was a life time of grooming me to
become a better mother, to love being a mother and to appreciate being a
mother. I think I was given 42 years to prepare for when mom is longer here and
to appreciate that as well. To my son I say, I may not be perfect but ha ha,
your scrawny butt is stuck with me! To all the moms out there, have a very
Happy Mother’s Day! ~ Just my two cents
No comments:
Post a Comment