In the next few days, it will be Mother’s Day again. Which got me thinking about the impact my mother has had on me. I then started thinking about the mother of my kids, my mother-in-law, my grandmother… and all of the women that I have known over the years and the underlying characteristic they have, that all mothers share. Let me start by wishing all mothers a very happy and much deserved Mother’s Day.
Prepare yourselves. This is a long one, dedicated to all of the mothers that have touched my life. I hope that by doing this, my sons can understand and appreciate their own mother to become better men.
My memory at times, does not do me justice and I have forgotten things that I wish were recorded in things like pictures and videos. Especially of my earliest childhood years.
My mom is a very quiet, non-aggressive and the most non-confrontational person I know. She goes way out of her way to avoid discussions on topics that will create friction for fear of the pain and suffering that it will cause. Even if it is something that has nothing to do with her. To say she sweeps things under the rug is an understatement. To give an example, she and my dad go to the doctor’s office pretty regularly and have been known to wait for 1-2 hours either in a waiting room or in the examination room, while the doctor is running from patient to patient, and according to my dad, has forgotten they are even there for a visit. When I ask if they want me to say something my mom is quick to say “No, please don’t. I am sure he is busy with other people and I don’t want him to get mad at us. It’s not a big deal.” Of course it is a big deal to my dad and it is a major pet peeve for him. :)
As I was preparing to write about this, I started to think back of some of the memories I have of my mom, such as when I was about 6 years old and came home crying because I had fallen outside and scraped my elbows and knees. She was the one that would treat those with alcohol and iodine. Ouch. It stings even as I write this. Or for those birthday memories that I have where we would actually share a birthday cake, but only my name was on it. You see, Mom and I share birthdays. My dad loves to say, and reminder her every year, that I was a birthday gift for her from him. To which she would immediately reply, “yes, and she remembers that she was in the hospital on her birthday, because of this “gift”.”
In my house, as in a lot of Spanish homes at that time, at least those that I was familiar with, the father was the bread winner and the mom was the care giver. Mom worked just as hard around the house, cooking all meals, doing the chores and babysitting. I think most of the town’s kids were raised by my mom. I still remember her kneeling down, washing our clothes on a washboard in the tub.
Mom was the go to person for everything. To some extent the same applies today but I do believe that fathers are much more involved in parenting so the lines have definitely become more blurred in this regard.
I remember Mom sitting next to me in bed, teaching me how to pray, or feeding me Lipton chicken soup when I was sick.
When I was about 11, my Mom’s dad, my Grandfather who used to live with us, passed away. I remember bits and pieces of things he did around the house or the times I spent with him. But the thing I remember most, was actually when my Mom came home from the hospital with my Dad, after my Grandfather had just passed away and seeing my mom crying as she walked up the stairs saying to me “Se no fue Rafy, se murio” which means, “he left us Ralphy, he died”. I tried to think about how she felt about this and tried to support her even though I was devastated myself.
When I was in fourth grade, my Mom went with me to school to sign me up for band. I wanted to be a drummer and needed my parents permission to do this. I also needed $10 so that I can get my drum pad kit. Mom came with me and I remember her taking the money out of her purse to pay for it. I was excited as heck to be doing this.
Years later, when I was in 10th grade, our band had a concert and not only was Mom there but the person who would eventually become my wife, and the mother of my kids was there as well. The concert was actually for Mother’s day. We were given a flower from the band to give to our Moms and I did. I did not have one for Luisa at the time and I remember thinking about whether I was doing the right thing giving it to mom or should I give it to my girlfriend. This was the first of many conflicting decisions over time. I ended it up giving it to Mom. What also made the decision much easier was that Luisa said it was ok with her for me to do so.
Later on, as I continued to date Luisa, we would go out dancing or to the movies or I would come back late from her parent’s house. No matter what time of the night I would come in, I recalled walking into the door and seeing mom, in her robe, waiting for me, making sure I got back in time and was safe at home.
I remember moving out of the house and into my first apartment and remember my mom crying because I was leaving. This was a few months before I married Luisa. Funny thing was, I moved less than 10 minutes away and would still get to see mom almost every day.
I eventually moved out of state, and finally, after several years, convinced my parents to retire and move down with me. I go over there several times a week to see my parents and love walking in and seeing the expression on Mom’s face when I walk in. You know, it’s one of those things when you walk up to your dad, and you get a hug but it is like one of those “hey son” moments. But when I hug mom, it is like “hi baby”.
Now that my mom is dealing with Alzheimer's, those hugs mean the world to me. How she hugs and kisses me. How she can still see and recognize me is something that just tears into my soul. Sometimes I sit and stare are her, just to see if I can figure out what is going on in her mind, while I see her staring into space, wondering what she is thinking. Of course, waiting for her to ask me if I want hot chocolate, no matter what the temperature is outside :) which she does this every time I go over there.
When I start thinking about all of the other women, such as my mother-in-law, my grandmother, my wife’s grandmother and especially my wife, I cannot but help to think about the same characteristic and traits they all share.
The selfless way they put everybody ahead of themselves. It is unfortunate that we scramble on Mother’s day to say thank you for everything mothers do for us. It needs to be something we do EVERYDAY. But at least on Mother’s day, on behalf of my boys and myself, I say to my wife, “Happy Mother’s Day”. But from the depths of my heart, I say to my Mom, Thank You. Even though you lost your mom when you were only 3 years old and did not have one to help you grow and teach you about how a mother is supposed to act and what role they play in our lives, you did what came naturally to a mother. For this, I will be eternally grateful.
Happy Mother’s Day.
