In Retrospect

It’s the day after Mothers Day.  And I have a jumble of feelings.

I have always held low to no expectations of this day. A mother of four, my unsaid (but implied) message to my offspring has always been: Please do not spend money to show your affection. Don’t buy into, literally, the commercial circus that makes this day second only to Christmas in gift giving, and a quarter of annual sales for the billion dollar floral industry.

The woman who started it all, Anna Jarvis, simply wanted to commemorate her own mother who had said, “I hope and pray that someone, sometime, will found a memorial mothers day.” This was back in 1908. It became a national holiday in 1914, but by the ‘20s the day had already become a florist and greeting card bonanza, and Jarvis wanted the decision reversed. She had envisioned the day as a celebration of time spent between mother and child, and spent the rest of her life trying to remove it from the calendar of federal holidays.

Anna Jarvis and I are on the same page.

When my grown children, who are stretched from one ocean to the other, clear across the country, remember to call me on Mothers Day, I am supremely happy. We have a long phone visit and I consider myself one lucky mom. And I still keep the sweet, lopsided, misspelled, cards from early school days – my treasures that come out on ‘rainy days’.

I get that we love to spend money on those we love, and if it makes mom happy, go for it. But then, just like Christmas, the original purpose and point of the day, ‘A celebration of time spent between mother and child’, is somehow lost in the translation. I think most moms would agree that the best gift is loving kindness, the gift of time, listening, reminiscing, celebrating together your love for your mama. And a handmade card, whether you’re six or sixty, is the crowning glory. Because it takes time.

Some moms get creative too. My friend, Gail, invented a ‘Mothers Day celebration for mothers without children’ this year. Six of us, whose kids were scattered across the globe, gathered for dinner last night to celebrate each other and the glory of motherhood. There were stories and pictures and bubbly, laughter and wonderful conversation that went from 6 pm to midnight! Mothers celebrating each other is a beautiful twist for Mothers Day, and I highly recommend it, especially if your kids are unavailable.

Mothers need to be celebrated and appreciated, cherished in fact, and reminded that, as children, we treasure that mother/ child bond. I believe that there is no love like it, that it never quits, and that our mother is always with us. When they pass from this Earth it’s their angel form still loving us, guiding us (if we listen) and always at our back.

I believe too that women do not need to birth a child in the literal sense in order to ‘mother’. It is inherent in all women to nurture. Some of us do it for our natural born progeny; some do it for human kind in general. I give you Mother Teresa. I know of a few ‘Mother Teresa’ types who burn out trying to nurture the world. Their love and deep compassion just keeps on stretching to enclose all, including the four-footed, who need it.

So here’s to mothers of all genres . . . human, animal, universal! The children of the Earth thank you. Future generations thank you. The Earth herself thanks you for everything you do to make this planet better.


Call your mother. Tell her you love her. Remember, you're the only person who knows what her heart sounds like from the inside.                                                                         ~Rachel Wolchin