Mother’s Day

One disadvantage to having an eleven year old, 2400+ post blog is that there aren’t very many subjects that you haven’t already written about, sometimes more than once. Such is the case with regards to Mother’s Day. I’ve written a lot about my own mother, my mother-in-law and my wife. Of course the advantage of having such a prolific blog is that it offered me the chance to write about great women on their special day. Looking back over all of them, what follows was at the head of the class when I first wrote it and remains there to this day. I’m not sure I could add anything to it that would be an improvement, something I can say about very little of what I have written in this space since 2010. So, on Mother’s Day Eve, I offer this...

Making the Trains Run on Time

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day. Ever since my Mom passed away, it’s been the occasion of many fond memories, but also a bit of sadness. I suppose that this is a natural thing and as it should be and will be for the remainder of my life. At present there are but two mothers in my life, my mother-in-law and my wife. My mother-in-law’s claim to fame will forever be bringing my wife into this world and raising her so well. My wife, on the other hand, has been and continues to be a legendary mother. A few examples...

To say that the two of us had different parenting styles would be a world class understatement. But, it’s one of the things I believe helped produce two pretty amazing kids. We had different jobs. While their mother was busy demonstrating the cardinal virtues in word and deed in front of our children, I was busy teaching them how to field grounders and break up a double play. While Pam labored to instill a love of books and reading in them, I was upstairs giving them their baths and teaching them how to execute a proper armpit fart. Pam spent countless hours cultivating an appreciation of the arts in our kids, teaching them about what it is to love and cherish fine things. I spent countless hours perfecting the tickle-monster bedtime routine, complete with ethnic diversity twists like the dreaded Chinese tickle-monster....don’t ask. But, it’s not like I taught them nothing of lasting value...the wrestling skills they retain to this day? All me!

But, in our house it was always Mom who made the trains run on time. She’s the one who packed their lunches every day for 12 years, never failing to include a hand written note of encouragement, or an occasional corny joke. It was Mom who always filled out the endless paperwork of childhood, the bureaucratic paper trail of American adolescence. It was Mom who made sure their teeth were straight, their clothes were clean and that everything matched. Mom was the one who scheduled their doctor’s appointments, made sure they showed up everywhere on time. It was Mom who always was there when they returned from school, with a snack, demanding a full report on the day’s adventures. It was Mom who would not tolerate a bad attitude or an uncharitable remark. It was Mom who taught them the crucial importance of manners, an old school term which essentially means...respect. And it was always Mom who did all the worrying. While I always reminded her that...the kids will be fine...she put in a lifetime of 18 hour days making sure they would be. 

Watching my wife with our kids all these years has convinced me that motherhood is more art than science. There is nothing accidental about it. Being a mother, it seems to me, is an eternal commitment to the hard details of life. It is a relentless pursuit, a tireless advocacy campaign, whereby anything or anyone who gets between your children and their best interests is in for an existential fight to the finish. If you were dumb enough to pose a threat to our kids, there would be hell to pay. But, having said all of this, what made Pam so incredible as a mother was the fact that she steadfastly resisted the urge to hover over them. She wasn’t one of those insufferable helicopter moms who think it their job to insure that junior never skins a knee. Pam made sure our kids were prepared for everything, but success or failure was their job. Pam was willing to allow them to fail. 

I had my moments as a dad. Even though I was responsible for financing my family’s adventures, I never became one of those guys who was always too busy making money to show up at the game or the concert. My kids always knew that Dad would be there..at everything. But it is not a case of false modesty to say that in our house there was always only one indispensable person...Mom. The kids knew it. I knew it. Even Mom knew it, and she never buckled under the weight of the job.

What a woman...