By Alan
Caruba
As someone
who had the great good fortune to have had a remarkable mother, a woman who
embraced being my Mother by providing unconditional love and support for my
various activities and decisions over the course of my life, I approach the
subject of motherhood with the knowledge that this does not apply to everyone.
I have
friends whose mothers were true horror stories. One wonders how they survived
theirs. And, of course, I can only approach the topic from a son’s point of
view. A mother’s relationship with a daughter may differ, but I cannot speak to
it. Daughters, too, have benefitted or paid a price for their mothers.
What
struck me as I contemplated the forthcoming Mother’s Day was the way my Mother,
born in the early 1900’s both loved being a mother and, well before the woman’s
movement that demanded equality, was in the adult school workplace teaching the
art of gourmet cuisine for some three decades.
Rebecca
acquired a great following and her classes were always sold old. Mother, who
occasionally expressed regret she had not attended college, had an encyclopedic
knowledge, not only of food, but of wines. Not only would she author two
cookbooks, she would become the first woman board member of the Sommelier
Society of America.
Need it be
said that dinner was the highlight of our days together, Mother, my Father
Robert, and myself. An older brother was largely gone out of our lives as the
result of service in the Army and marriage shortly thereafter.
Mother
brought to her classes the philosophy she lived at home. My Father adored her.
Their marriage exceeded sixty years together. He delighted in her success. That
was reflected in an atmosphere of love that imbued our lives together.
Mother
lived to age 98, passing away in 2002. A day never passes without thoughts of
her. I was truly blessed in the same way my Father, her friends, and countless
students felt. She imparted a philosophy that saw life as a constant
opportunity to learn about one’s passions and to pursue them.
The modern
American holiday of Mother’s Day was first celebrated in 1908 when Anna Jarvis
held a memorial for her mother in Grafton, West Virginia. She had begun her
campaign to have Mother’s Day become a recognized holiday in 1905, the year her
mother passed away. As she put it, your mother is “the person who has done more
for you than anyone in the world.” Several states officially recognized
Mother’s Day and in 1914 President Wilson signed a proclamation creating
Mother’s Day on the second Sunday in May as a national holiday.
There have
been men whose mother’s contributed in significant ways to the success they
achieved. To call them Mama’s Boys is to realize that the relationship had both
a good and not so good effect on them. Elvis Presley began his rise when he
went to Sun Records in Memphis to record some songs as a birthday present for
his mother, Gladys. He was her only child and had a very close, loving
relationship. She was living with him at Graceland until she passed away in
1958.
Another
Mama’s Boy was General Douglas MacArthur. The youngest of her three sons, when
he went off to West Point, she followed, taking up residence at a hotel where
she could keep an eye on him. Reportedly they got together for an hour after he
dined with his fellow students. He, of course, grew up to lead America to
victory in the Pacific Theatre of World War Two. There was nothing about him
that suggested his mother’s close attention and love did anything but prepare with
a great sense of self-confidence.
Franklin
Delano Roosevelt was the only son of Sara and she was as controlling a mother
as one could imagine. After he married Eleanor without Sara’s approval, she
gave them a townhouse in Manhattan which connected to her own! Reportedly,
Franklin latter admitted he had been terrified of her mother his entire life.
That, however, did not interfere with his rising to become President and one of
the great leaders of his times.
One might
speculate that, for good or ill, being a Mama’s Boy, loved and/or controlled applies
in some fashion to the sons of all the mothers.
The
fortunate ones like myself can grow up to bask in the love of their mothers and
look back on their lives together with memories that guide our present lives.
To me,
motherhood, along with fatherhood, has surely got to be the most important job
any woman or man can undertake.
© Alan
Caruba, 2015
4 comments:
You have some great memories of your Mom, she must have been a wonderful Mother.
She was a wonderful mother and I miss her every day.
Wonderful. Our Mother is 95. There is no way I can write like you Mr. Caruba.
She must have been, to have raised a Son like you Alan.
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