This is my first Mother’s Day without my mother. Understandably, I’m feeling bereft and sad that I couldn’t pick out a lovely card to send her or call her and hear the voice I’ve listened to my entire life, and tell her I love her. One of the advantages of being born to a very young mother is that you get to have her for a longer period of time than many other daughters. My own mother was part of my life for sixty-eight years so I was especially blessed.
“A mother teaches you everything—except how to live without her” now has such meaning. Most boomers grew up with amazing mothers who also had amazing mothers. Each generation passes along their strengths and we build on that to become even stronger women in our own right.
The perception of mothers in the fifties and sixties raising their families June Cleaver-style, staying at home and dispensing wisdom along with home-cooked meals and happy outcomes was not the reality for many of us. Our mothers were indeed wise and loving, but very few of the mothers in my circle of friends stayed home and played bridge with their friends. They worked during the day in factories, shops, hospitals, restaurants, family businesses and offices or they taught school. They came home exhausted at the end of the day and cooked meals, did laundry, cleaned house. Then, they somehow found time to lend to community or church work.
And now, most Boomers have lost our mothers. Those strong, loving women coped in ways we could never imagine. As we remember them today, we have a stronger appreciation for how precious and incredible they really were. My friend Gail posted this little poem which says it better than I ever could:
If roses grow in heaven, Lord, pick a bunch for me; place them in my mothers arms and tell her they’re from me; Tell her that I love her, and when she turns to smile, place a kiss upon her cheek and hold her for awhile; because remembering her is easy; I do it
everyday. There’s an ache within my heart that will never go………
away. In memory of my Mother…