Happy Mother's Day

As a teenager, the last thing I wanted to do was to be a clone of my mother.   I can remember guys being cautioned, “If you want to know what a girl will look like in thirty years, check out her mom.”  All in all, a pretty scary proposition.

Nowadays, I could only hope to be a clone of my mother, and remember all the moms who helped us along our way.  Our moms baked cookies and brownies and brought them to school for our birthdays. They were room mothers and den mothers and if we messed up, they weren’t afraid to tell us just what our own mom would have told us. 

Moms were everywhere. They worked at the bank, and cooked at the school cafeteria.  They were grocery shopping at Bub Smith’s or Mc Bride’s and if you are old enough, at Sweat’s dime store. You were never unobserved, believe me.  Someone’s mom was looking out the window and picked up the phone to dial your own mom to tell her what you were up to.

Our moms wore housedresses and aprons and had some pretty serious undergarments – items that were hung on the inside clotheslines so they could not be observed by passers-by.  We were instructed in modesty and lady-like behavior and tutored by women who wouldn’t consider going out of the house without lipstick. 

Our moms had a sense of occasion; they got dressed up for church and card club and the rare dinner at Meeker’s.  They had survived The Great Depression and every one of them had a brother or uncle or sweetheart who served in World War II.  Life had touched them deeply.

My strongest impression of those women was a sense of grace, a sense of dignity.  My mom’s friends and my friends’ moms were elegant and funny and well dressed.  I had a cadre of smart, outspoken aunts who arrived in a cloud of perfume and a susurration of silk. They smelled like Ponds and Jergen’s Lotion and talcum.  They carried real handkerchiefs and compacts with pressed powder in their mysterious handbags.

Springtime carries the scent of violets and lilac and lily of the valley - old-fashioned scents that remind me of ladies in hats and gloves and costume jewelry, stockings straight, with smiles that would light up a room - our moms. 

To all the moms, thanks.