Mothers’ Day Meditation & Memories

I don’t remember much about Mothers’ Day when I was growing up.  Daddy usually took us out to dinner or we’d go on a picnic.  I do recall that once on May 9th, we went to the mountains near Albuquerque for one of those picnic outings and got caught in a snow storm.  Such is weather in New Mexico!

As I got a bit older, and relations with Mom were strained to say the least, I grew to dread the day.  Her children were expected to make command appearances…  And, of course, the day never lived up to her expectations.  Of course, Mom never bothered to communicate what those expectations were, so we were in a no-win situation.  Sigh…

When I despaired of ever getting pregnant, the day was a bitter reminder.

When I finally became a mother, we had our own precious traditions.  I always got breakfast in bed before church.  As the girls got older and they wanted to “cook”, things were often creative.  One year, I had chocolate donuts and a cheeseburger, an interesting combo  of my favorite foods.  The girls loved doing it and I love being their mom! In the beginning, Harold was the driving force behind the celebration — and he still lets me know that he appreciates me as the mother of his children.

These days, we’re not always together for the day.  This year, for instance, both Becca & Johanna are out of town, so we’ll celebrate together another day.  I’ve talked to them both on the phone, they both sent cards, Jo sent a bucketful of daisies, our son-in-law came for lunch, amd in a fine show of keeping to tradition, Harold brought me chocolate iced, chocolate-filled donuts this morning. Intense flavor!  All in all, a very fine day!

Now that it’s quiet in the house, with Nathan gone and Harold taking his afternoon nap, I’ve had some time to ponder this motherhood thing. My mom didn’t like it much.  I never found out why, so I’m left to wonder.  I’ve read several books of late that concerned mothers.  In The Glass Castle by Jeannete Wells, her mother was to put it mildly, a free spirit.  She valued her art and her free time to create more highly than childcare.  In Saving Graces, Elizabeth Edwards showed us a fairly traditonal model of motherhood.  In Strange Son, a mother spends all her time and resources to the end of finding a cure for autism for one of her sons, often to the exclusion of her other children.  Three very different women with very different mothering styles.  One thing in common — they all loved their children and showed them that they did.

I have come to believe that my mother did love me even if she didn’t show it.  I think she did the best she could.  And, isn’t that, after all, the most we can ask?  I love my girls dearly, and I think they know it. (Son-in-law Nathan too!) I’ve always loved being a mom, even though I didn’t always do the best thing, didn’t always make the best choice, but at the end of the day, there was always love. They always know that no matter what, they have my unconditional love.  I consider my daughters to be my friends now that they’re grown and independent, and I think they consider me their friend as well.  We talk often, read some of the same books, have wonderful discussions, go places together…I am so very blessed! 

It’s Monday and I’m Mad

My daughter regularly has a “Monday Madness” entry on her blog, looking at something strange, quirky, funny or downright ridiculous. Today, I’m doing a Monday MAD entry…

Let me begin by saying that I’m a baseball fan — and an ardent Houston Astros fan. Like many others, I admit to my chagrin that I was caught up in the hype of signing “The Rocket” Roger Clemens a few years ago to be an Astro — it was great PR and let’s face it, the guy can pitch (most of the time anyway). But then his demands grew as his prowess lessened. Last year, it was like he held the team hostage until he decided whether or not he would play again. I said enough with the drama, pitch or be quiet. Wow, he’s “giving” us another year. But, I didn’t particularly want him back this year because I felt the rest of the team, especially the pitching staff, was slighted and overlooked due to his glitz and fame, despite his rather mediocre stats. Still, he said he might… I know there were ongoing negotiations, but it was really no big surprise that he went back to the Yankees, following another Houston hometowner Andy Pettite. Money talks and the Yankees have plenty of that, and Clemens feels “privileged” to be a part of their organization again and will do all in his power to help the team. Hey, I guess he should feel privileged — at a cool $4.5 mil a month or whatever he signed for…. That buys a lot of privilege. Now not being a Yankees fan ever, I had a few choice (private) comments about his “tough” decision… (I don’t think wishing for a 19.5 ERA is too harsh…)

Now, I’ve long been a critic of athletic salaries — those for professional athletes and my pet peeve, college coaches who can rake in more than the school president, not to mention much more than a tenured professor. It’s not that I think a person should not be compensated for doing good work.  Indeed, I have long fought that battle for those who worked for me through the years.  Somehow, though, priorities have gotten mixed up here. Athletics should never be played at the expense of education, and no one (no, not even the Rocket) is worth that much money. I know, before someone tells me, that Clemens is generous to charities and his foundations. Many high-salaried athletes are. As well they should be. I believe with privilege comes responsibility. But, almost $20 mil to pitch part of a season??? Good grief! What is wrong with this picture??? I heard a sports report today on NPR. Someone sat down and figured that given roughly the average number of pitches Clemens usually throws in an outing, EACH pitch would be worth upwards of $7500.00 — I’m sorry, but that is simply obscene. In less than an inning, he can surpass my yearly income… Now, I’m not a ball player and I don’t entertain millions and I’m not good PR for any cause and I can’t give what he does for charities, but please… Where is the sense of scale and purpose here? He’s not a Nobel scholar or a researcher out to cure a dreaded disease. He throws baseballs!!!

Of course I know that so long as there are fans willing to pay the price to see their teams play (OK, so maybe I should think about boycotting baseball if I’m serious here…) and as long as those college teams win, this picture is not likely to change. So I’ll just keep on ranting when something this ridiculous occurs. And I’m privileged to do so!