Salute to Mothers

I think being a parent is probably the hardest job a person can have. Nature has made women even more attuned to parenthood than a father (generally speaking). It must be very difficult to watch your children grow up and out of your reach, metaphorically speaking. I think it starts when they go into grade one or two, when they start being influenced by their peers and start seeing you through eyes that are critical. It’s downhill after that.

As an aunt I am at one remove but still I find it hard to realize that the little children I helped to nurture are beyond my sphere. As hard as I am feeling it I can only imagine what a mother must feel.

I feel very fortunate that my own mother is still within my reach and that I can make her still feel wanted and needed. I haven’t thought about it in that way before today. I’ve been good about calling her every few days and visiting most weekends. I share pretty much all my experiences at work and play (yes, I do actually play) which helps her keep in the loop out in the world. She leads a pretty restricted life though it is mostly of her own choosing. When my dad passed away ten years ago I made my mother promise not to die for another twenty years as I wasn’t prepared to be an orphan. I’m still not ready.

My mother was a very strict parent. We had to eat everything off of our plate or she would make us sit there for hours (it seemed like hours) until we finished it or managed to throw it in the garbage when she wasn’t looking. She would make us do dishes, clean our rooms, take care of our siblings. It was pain of death if we got a soaker and I always got one. She used to say “My kids could find water in a desert; there hasn’t been rain for weeks but they can find it and come home filthy.” (it’s a gift J) I heard about my hair and what was wrong with it well into my 30’s. In fact, I thought I [--- oh woodpecker --- there’s a woodpecker outside my office window, just a young one with a fuzzy head. So cute! ] – oh yes, my hair, I used to perm my hair at least once a year until I was in my 30’s and my sister said I had naturally curly hair. Who knew? My mother apparently didn’t. I’ve been tortured with perms since I was 7 years old, for heavens’ sakes! But she’s my mother and I love her.

My father used to quote an old Chinese proverb “One mother can raise ten children, but ten children can’t care for one mother.” Isn’t it sad to know that the proverb is true?

Fortunately I know a number of women who are caring for their mothers and count it a blessing every day they still have their Mom in their lives. For those of you who haven’t spoken with your mother or father in a while, give them a call or send them a nice card. Make their day. J