While it was started as a day to honor mothers, Mother’s Day can be a grim one for many people. It’s tough for women who want to be mothers but, for whatever reason, can’t have children. It’s a hard day for mothers who have lost children. And it is equally rough for those of us, both men and women, whose mothers are no longer with us. I am a member of the Sorority of Motherless Daughters. It is an organization to which I would rather not belong. I hear the Fraternity of Motherless Sons has a goodly number of members, too.
In 1914, Woodrow Wilson, a Phi Kappa Psi member, officially proclaimed the second Sunday in May as Mother’s Day. One of the earliest efforts. In 1870, Julia Ward Howe, who would later become an Honorary Initiate of the Kappa Kappa Gamma chapter at Boston University, wrote the “Mother’s Day Proclamation.” In the aftermath of the American Civil War, Howe’s call to action asked mothers to unite in promoting world peace.A few years later, Howe campaigned for a “Mother’s Peace Day” to be celebrated every June 2. Anna Jarvis, following in the footstep of her mother Ann Jarvis, worked relentlessly to get the holiday establish. When commercialism took over, she sought to have the holiday stricken from the calendar.
Woodrow Wilson, Phi Kappa Psi
For years after my mother passed away, I would pick up the phone and begin to call her number and then realize that she would not be on the other end of the phone. When she became ill, I spent about six months hopscotching between Florida and Illinois. Once during one of my visits to Florida, my daughter called with the excited news that she had become a legal driver. “Letting go with both hands” were the words I used to describe those six months.
It’s been almost a decade and a half since I lost Mom. And while time does ease the pain somewhat, trying to write even these few paragraphs was hard through tears. There are days when I just say “I miss my Mommy,” out loud and to no one in particular.
If your Mom is still alive and you haven’t called or visited her yet, get to it. Resolve any petty differences while you still can. Give her extra hugs and kisses. So what if she isn’t the perfect mother? There are no perfect mothers. Parenting is the hardest job in the world. It has long hours, low pay, and no procedure manual to contend with all the problems and issues which are part of the job. Be sure to thank those women who are like mothers to you.
Since I think it’s always good to add some laughter to the mix, I offer these reflections on my life as a Mother.
One of our daughter’s favorite bedtime stories was a book called Picnic. In it, a family of mice go on a picnic. The book was illustrated by Emily McCully. Our daughter was 18-months-old when her twin brothers were born, so by the end of the day I was usually a bit frazzled. That book, and the Cat in the Hat which I could recite from memory talking a mile a minute thanks to my native New York roots, were two of the old staples. Some days, we would take a long time “reading” Picnic, with stories about each of the mice on the page. Other days, it was a quick story. “Look, Emily and her mouse family go on a picnic. She gets left behind. They come back to get her and they live happily ever after.” That summed up the story. And yes, I named the mouse after the illustrator. It was the easiest way to come up with a name. We had copies of McCully’s other books about the mouse, too. I vividly recall the day that our daughter, who became and still is an avid reader, came home from school and decided to take Picnic off her shelf to read, this time to herself. She came to me with the saddest face and asked me if I knew that the book had no words. It was page after page of wondeful watercolor illustrations. “I loved this story, but there are no words to read.” That’s when we had a little talk about imagination. (I discovered that the book was recently reissued with text and I find that sad.)
Twin A and Twin B were born a minute apart. Between their birth and the time they started kindergarten they spent virtually all of their time together. When it came time to go to school, I took them to the preregistration. They each were “tested” by a different teacher. At the first consultation with teachers, I was told by Twin B’s teacher, “Mrs. Becque, Twin B is about 18 months behind in his development.” I was a little taken aback by that, but said nothing and finished up our meeting. I went to Twin A’s classroom where I was told that Twin A was 18 months ahead in his development. That would make them approximately 3 years apart in their development. Two children who had spent their entire lives playing with each other were three years apart developmentally? I wasn’t buying it. I cornered the twins and asked if they remembered when they had their one-on-one with the teacher. Twin B blurted out, “Yea, and she asked me some really stupid questions, so I gave her really stupid answers.” Into the principal’s office I went to request a retest, this time with Twin B’s assurance that he would not provide stupid answers.
© Fran Becque, www.fraternityhistory.com, 2015. All Rights Reserved. If you enjoyed this post, please sign up for updates. Also follow me on twitter @GLOHistory and Pinterest www.pinterest.com/glohistory/
