Mothers Day reflections

By the time you read this, it will be over: my first Mothers Day without my mother. As regular readers of this column will recall, my mom, Jean E. Harbold, died at the end of February this year, after a long and valiant fight against a range of increasingly debilitating ailments. To slightly paraphrase St. Paul, she fought the good fight, and she finished the race.

Since my father died in 1999, I am now, along with my brothers, an adult orphan. And since I do not have a wife or family of my own, and lived with my mother as her companion and caregiver in the final years of her life, the loss is particularly acute.

The combination of choosing to focus on good memories, and throwing myself wholesale into my work, has helped to blunt the pain to some degree, but it recurs at odd times. And of course, seeing the ads and cards and all the panoply of commercial and sentimental marketing of Mothers Day just makes me remember how much I wish I had my mother back to buy a card for, take out to dinner, hug, and tell her I love her.

I think it's wonderful to have a Mothers Day to remember our mothers once a year. But I am sometimes concerned that all too often, we take our mothers for granted the rest of the year. Remembering them becomes something to be fit in around the essentials of life, rather than being one of those essentials. And that's a shame. Mothers deserve better.

Although there are unfortunate exceptions, mothers, as a whole, are wonderful people who are often deeply under-appreciated for all the things they give their children. These gifts start with the gift of life itself, of course. Our mothers bore us for nine months before we ever came into the world, and -- again, in most cases -- were largely responsible for providing us with the sustenance, care, and nurturance we need to survive and thrive thereafter.

I was fortunate, I believe, that my own mother was a full-time, stay-at-home mom. But I am also in awe of the mothers who manage to raise balanced, well-rounded, productive children to adulthood while working, and sometimes without the aid of a husband and father.

Parents in general, but mothers in particular, typically make a huge number of sacrifices for the good of their children: sacrifices of time, energy, and money that often go unnoticed by their beneficiaries, especially during childhood. Later, perhaps, looking back, adult children may realize the scope of the gifts they have been given.

If we are fortunate, we may have the opportunity to pay some of that care back in the care we give to our aging mothers, "pay it forward" by following their examples in the care of our own children, if we have any, or more likely a combination of both. That, at least, is the way the world should work.

So if you are fortunate enough to have a mother, take some time to show her your gratitude for all she has done for you: not just on Mother's Day, but all year. Take the time to truly talk to her, listen to her memories, and tell her how much you care, how much you appreciate her sacrifices and generosity over the years. And if for some reason you don't have a good relationship with your mother, perhaps this is a good time to mend fences.

Above all, be grateful that you have a mother, however imperfect she may be, because the time will come when you do not. How sad if she were to die with things left unsaid, love unexpressed, between you!

And if, like me, you no longer have a mother living, take comfort in the knowledge that you are not alone. Sadly, burying one's parents is inevitable, unless one dies first. Recall the good times. Set aside any that may have been less good. Be grateful for all the gifts your mother gave you, over the years: not just or even primarily material things, but sayings, teachings, stories, hugs, shared memories. If, again like me, you believe that death is not the end, remember that there will be a meeting again.

And to all you moms out there, thank you for all you've done and continue to do for your children. May blessings of health, long life, and joy be yours.