A Postscript to Mothers’ Day

Mothers’ Day isn't the warm and fuzzy, gushy and gooey, sentimental day depicted by Hallmark. Oh, I suppose there is some of that, but another view of Mothers’ Day is equally as real. For many, it is a day fraught with sadness, grief, and dashed hopes. For me, celebrating Mothers’ Day has been more about giving up expectations and enjoying surprises.

We always wore corsages to church on Mothers’ Day. I wore a red carnation, because my mother was alive and watching me from the choir loft. My mother, however, wore a white corsage, because her mother was watching her from Heaven. Neither of us wanted to get in any trouble with our moms. It never occurred to me to ask Mother how she felt about being motherless.

My three children brought home cards made at school and, with Tim’s help, showered me with presents. I rarely gave the significance of the day much thought until Mother died. Then, I was so terribly sad I could barely get through that day or any other for that matter. I haven’t yet returned to church on Mothers’ Day; some things are just too painful.

Somehow, as the years went by and my own personal grief subsided, I developed a different view of Mothers’ Day. First of all, I explained my expectations to Jeremy, Evan, and Rachel; don’t show up on Mothers’ Day with a gift purchased on sale at Walgreen's if you treat me like crap the rest of the year. Too little too late! They got the message. Yesterday, Evan and Rachel texted me—no gifts, no phone call but we’re good.

Next, I realized that some of the best mothers never had children of their own. Laura McEntire, spinster, and her mother, Mac, lived across the street from my mother’s family. Mother and a few of her younger brothers—there were seven boys—spent lots of time in the McEntires’ big house on Meridian Street. During WWII, the brothers wrote letters to Laura and Mac from foreign fields of battle, a testament to their love for the spinster and her mother. My brother, Ted, and I never thought it peculiar that Laura lived with us; she was sort of our quirky aunt/grandmother who loved us dearly.

When I became a grandmother, my views about all kinds of things changed—including Mothers’ Day. I didn't think I’d ever have grandchildren; the boys weren't married, and Rachel preferred furry critters. But life is more about surprises than expectations and in the blink of an eye, Bryan, Tyler, Anna Lauren, Keegan, Wynn, Aiden, and Leighton Belle—my pollywogs—wanted to go on a Disney Cruise, and I was indebted to Shelley, Rachel, Jennifer, and Krissy.

Yesterday, Tim and I spent Mothers’ Day with Jeremy’s family. Anna Lauren (5) knew a secret and wanted me to guess it.

“Grammy, Daddy got you a present for Mothers’ Day, and it starts with a “ch” sound.”

I thought a moment. Hmm.

“A chimpanzee! I've always wanted a chimpanzee.”

“No, it’s not a chimpanzee. Guess again.”

“A chipmunk. I don’t really want one though.”

“Oh, Grammy, it’s not a chipmunk.”

“What about a chihauhau?”

“It’s not a chihauhau. Okay, I’ll tell you what it is. He bought you a puma.”

“A puma!! What will I do with a puma?”

“The puma’s name is Freddie, and he won’t last long.”

“What do you mean he won’t last long?”

“He smokes cigarettes and cigars, so he won’t last long.”

When Jeremy gave me a box of Harry and David’s truffles, I felt tremendous relief. How in the world would I have explained to a gas station attendant why I was buying cigarettes for a puma named Freddie?

Mothers’ Day—surprises are always better than any of my expectations.

May 13, 2013