Daily Diary, May 14, 2023, Day 985:
Happy Mother's Day to all of you who mother others in the best sense of the word.
My own mother died over 35 years ago in the spring, and I like to honor her on mother's day with a brief section of a piece I wrote about her. I am also including a poem by my father that brings back a lovely memory of my time with her growing up.
Memories of My Mother
The two characteristics I associate most with my mother are friendship and service. When I remember her, I picture her on the phone, cup of coffee in hand and pad of paper next to her.
When the pen and paper weren’t being used, I knew she was listening patiently to her friends as they confided in her about their marriages, their children, their aging parents, their hopes and their fears. Friendship was important to her…and she spent quality time maintaining those relationships. Something she taught me to do as well.
But when the paper and pen were being used…I knew that my mother was organizing someone or something to be of service to others. She wasn’t just the normal 1950s mother volunteering as Girl Scout leader, Sunday school teacher, PTA president (although she did all those things.) But she organized vaccination drives in the inner city, was the first female elder in our church, helped found the first domestic violence hot line and shelter for battered woman in Pittsburgh, and became the volunteer Executive Director of Pennsylvania Common Cause—an organization committed to campaign reform that was started in the 1970s. Friendship…and service to others. The twin pillars of her life.
SOAPS
When I'm home from school
on Snow Days
or in the Summer Time
Mother works the time, so we
can eat our lunch at half-past twelve.
She puts things on the table
and turns on the Soaps,
then jumps up to the stove
or gets things from the fridge
only at Commercial Time.
But while the people move and talk
she pours me milk
with only half her eye
and answers me
with half her mind.
--Joseph Locke
For me, the highlight of those lunch times with my mother was that she would often have baked an apple pie that we would have with cheddar cheese as we watched her soap opera on TV. Watching TV in the daytime and eating dessert instead of a regular meal felt so special and it was our little secret!
Sometimes it is those kinds of memories that are the best. Do you have a good one to share about the person who nurtured you when you were growing up?
I wish I did.
Happy Mother's Day!!