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Written by Joan Eison
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What’s your favorite motherly advice?
- If everyone jumped off a cliff, would you do it too?
- If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all
- You can do anything you put your mind to
The custom of a special day to honor mothers goes back as far as 17th
century England which celebrated Mothering Sunday. In the USA,
Mother’s day originated in 1872 with Julia Ward Howe, a writer,
abolitionist, and suffragist, and it was made a national holiday by
President Woodrow Wilson in 1911.
But, the people whom we call "mother," aren’t the only ones who nurture
us and foster our development. There are "other mothers," truly special
people who didn’t necessarily look, act or sound like the Ladies Home
Journal version of a mother. Some of the life lessons they brought were
so sweet that tears flowed; while, others had the same affect as a bee
sting or a hot stove.
A woman that I worked with gave me a lasting memory about celebrating
those you love. My own mother said that the good china and silver
were reserved for guests and special occasions. One day when I
was in my late twenties, I walked into the office kitchen where Jean,
one of my co-workers, was enthusiastically describing preparations for
a special cabbage and sweet sausage meal and ironing her grandmother’s
table cloth and polishing silver. "Oh," I said. "You must be
having a party."
"No," she said, "It’s all for my family. They are my most
important company. My Russian grandmother taught the recipes and
preparations." Because of Jean’s example I had a whole new way to
think about celebrating family and loved ones. She gave me that
beautiful lesson 30 years ago and almost every time I set my table with
special linens and dishes, her words come back to me.
Not everyone mothers and nurtures in traditional ways; and the variety
is wonderful to experience. The births of ideas and creativity are
tremendously important and meaningful, and they often light the way to
fulfilling life paths.
The "other mother" who showed me that I was a unique, special person
was a man. My high school principal was often thought of as a
gruff disciplinarian. Nonetheless, he knew the name of every
student in our large student body and probably knew where they lived
and what their family life was like. Although he knew everyone’s
given names, he used nicknames for the majority of the student body and
it was his habit and pleasure to use his specialized nicknames. I
have no idea where the name that he gave me came from; but, it was
Drusilla Aardvark. As far as I know, I don’t resemble an
aardvark; but, in the mind of this leader of future generations, this
font of wisdom, I was unique, and the only Drusilla Aardvark in the
entire student body. Three years after graduating, I called my
old principal, who had left the principalship for an education agency,
and I asked him for advice on getting a job. His voice boomed
through the phone, "Why, Drusilla! Come down town and I’ll take
you to fill out an application." He personally escorted me into
the human resource director’s office and introduced me by my given name
and assured the director that I would be the best employee the agency
had ever had. My principal’s every word was threaded with
motherly pride and I was almost overwhelmed with ambition and certainty
that I would make his prediction come true.
I learned the meaning of unconditional love from a woman 25 years my
senior who told me how concerned she was about her youngest son.
He was increasingly serious about a woman whose life and values were
significantly different from those of the family in which he was
raised. I empathized with her anxiety as I patted her shoulder
and asked her what she was going to do. With an open, trusting
gaze, the woman looked at me and said, "I’m going to love her."
"But, but," I stuttered. "Aren’t you going to try to change his mind?"
"No, I’m just going to tell him how much I love him and that I plan to love the woman he has chosen to love."
Tears sprung to my eyes and I felt as loved as if she had cradled me in
her arms. Through the years there have been a few hit road blocks
between me and people I wanted to love. I found myself thinking,
"If you will act this way. Or, if you will do this thing, then, I
will love you more." And, many times I leaned on the example that
my friend gave to me. I have thought of her and the resolve she had to
"just love" and not put any qualifications or barriers between her love
and the receiver.
Whether you are a traditional mother or not, you are likely to have
vast opportunities to nurture old and young. Embrace those times
as a gift to you and to them to "just love."
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