Moms’ Day

It’s Moms’ Day and in thinking about what to post, I realized that in this time of two income families and career women, my experience with four generations of mothers … grandmothers, mothers, wife and daughter … is very likely a thing of the past.   All four generations have been and are stay-at-home Moms.  In the case of my grandmothers and my Mom, that was simply the way things were done.   For Muri and I, it was a choice, one made easier by the fact that once the kids were in school, she worked for the school district so she could be there when they came home.  My daughter’s decision to stay at home with the kids is an uncommon one these days, one I appreciate as both a father and a grandfather.

Nanny

Grammareed

My grandmothers were Mary on my mother’s side and Louise on my father’s.  Louise was our Grammareed and Mary was Nanny.   Grammareed was the more serious and stern of the two, always loving but uninclined to dote.  I know enough about my father’s childhood to know her path as a mother was not easy, so her harder outlook is no surprise.  The Dad my father turned out to be given the father he had reflects well on Grammareed.  Nanny was the sweet, doting grandmother who thought I could do no wrong (she never suspected her goldfish died because I fed them tobacco).  Every grandchild should be doted on by a grandparent and Nanny was our designated doter.   My kids missed out on that with our parents because we lived so far from home which is one of the reasons my daughter appreciates having Muri and I close by.

My Mom with Amy and Aaron

My mother, Florence, was a renaissance woman given her time.  She oil painted and sketched in charcoals.  She played music, from Broadway to classical … and always knew when there was a meteor shower or some other show in the night sky.  She fed the birds and squirrels, sometimes by hand.   She taught me, by example, to love music, art and nature.  She also taught me the importance of spirituality, although her particular brand of spirituality didn’t work for me.  Though she didn’t exactly approve when I brought home a girl of another faith, she did her best to accept Muri, eventually telling me she realized that she was the perfect wife for me.

Muri's Mom with Muri and Amy

Muri’s Mom, Violet, did the same for Muri, accepting the cocky Catholic kid when her husband was very opposed.  She was a kind and gentle woman who taught goodness through example and took life as it is with grace.  Much of what I love in Muri is a direct reflection of her Mom.  I wish I’d had a chance to tell her that before she passed away at the age of ninety-one.   That’s just another reminder that we need to tell the people we love how we feel about them while there’s still time.

I suspect that people who don’t get to be parents themselves never really appreciate their own parents.  As kids (even teenage kids) we think life is all about us, that our mothers were put on earth for our care and feeding.   In being parents we get to see that Mom actually had a life of her own that brought its own joys, sorrows and concerns … yet she still managed to be the thoughtful Mom we remember.   Through our ups and downs, Muri has always set the kind of example her mother set for her.  She’s been the steady hand to balance my impulsiveness and passion (code word, sometimes, for temper).  She has always been the listener in the family, a role which sometimes wears on her … I’m not sure our children appreciate that enough.  In being a father with Muri by my side, I don’t know how single parents do it.

Then, there’s my daughter, Amy, mother of three under the age of six … Reed, Maddux and Savannah,  who gives me the opportunity to watch the woman I loved as My Little Girl as a Mom.  It’s easy at my age to remember just the joys of  having small children but through Amy … and a few times we’ve watched Reed, Maddux and Savannah for extended periods … I get to appreciate again how much work it is being a Mom, especially a stay-at-home Mom.  Amy does some things differently than we did … to these Older Eyes, some seem better, some worse … but I can see how happy those three little monkeys are and how much they love her.   Being a good Mom isn’t down in the details of parenting style anyway, it’s in the heart and Amy’s got a good one.  And, as a bonus, I get to see Muri as a Nana … and to see the light in her eyes when the kids come running her way.

So, it’s Moms’ Day.  Happy Mother’s Day to Muri and Amy.  Happy Mother’s Day to every Mom out there.  You are loved, perhaps more than you know … and still, perhaps, less than you deserve.

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Tags: family, grandchildren, gratitude, holidays, Mother's Day, mothers, postaday2011, smiles

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