HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!

Families were complicated more than a century ago and many people were raised lovingly by relatives who were not their parents.  One such was my maternal grandmother.  I don't know the full story and so much time has passed that it really doesn't matter.  The woman who raised my grandmother -- the woman I knew as my great-grandmother -- was a smart, educated, and loving person who valued knowledge greatly. A teacher in her early years, she went on to become the first (I believe) female member of my town's school board.  My grandmother, Mildred Park, married a tall and lanky man named Bernard Francis "Frank" Ford.  In time, they had my mother whom they named Millard Harriet; the Millard came from a combination of Mildred and Bernard, and thankfully, they called her Harriet.  (There is some question as to whether her name was Harriet or Harriette; both spellings were used, but my mother late in life legally changed her name to Harriette ("two t's and an e," as she would say); at the same time she legally dropped the Millard, which was probably just as well.  

When my mother was seven, she got a baby sister, Betty.  Unfortunately, around the same time, her father was killed in a massive gas plant explosion.  I have no idea of the reasoning behind it, but my grandmother decided to move to Florida with the two children.  Mildred was what could best be called a flibbertigibbet, and my great-grandmother put her foot down:  Betty was too young to be separated from her mother, but she's be darned if my mother was going with them.  So my mother stayed in Massachusetts and was raised by her grandmother and her uncles and an aunt.  Just as well.  She had a pretty decent childhood, had many friends, and was popular in school, eventually marrying my father when she was nineteen.

Kitty's mother Eileen had a similar story.  Her father was evidently a fairly prosperous fellow but died of a sudden heart attack when she was young; her mother, dependent on her husband, killed herself shortly afterward, and Eileen at nine years old went to be raised by an uncle and aunt.  The uncle, Frank Aiken, was a kindly man with a terrible gambling habit.  When he had money he would buy jewelry to hide in the floorboards of the house for the day (which always came) when he would lose the money through further gambling.  It was hard economic times but Frank always managed to get by -- at one time he had a used car lot; at another, a small restaurant; he evidently did a bit of vaudeville; and, living on the South shore of Massachusetts, he had some vague and nebulous underworld connections.  Frank's wife, Florrie, had problems of her own, mainly being visibly bipolar and had had several electric shock treatments.  (Kitty has a very vague memory of one of  Florrie's episodes, where she held a knife to kitty's throat when Kitty was about three years old.)  Despite all this, Frank and Florrie provided Eileen with a loving and (usually) stable childhood.  Like my mother, Eileen had a basically happy childhood with many friends and was very popular in school.

There were many similarities between Kitty's mother and mine, especially in their childhood.  I remember an old picture of my mother holding me as a baby with my older (by three years) sister Linda standing next to us.  Kitty's mother had a picture of her holding Kitty as a baby with Kitty's older (by three years) brother Michael standing next to them.  The two pictures could not have been more alike.

Both my mother and Eileen came out of their childhood in ways both similar and different.  Both were insecure.  Luckily both married men who adored them.  My mother masked her insecurities with a veneer of proper conduct; she was very much aware of her reputation and worked hard to present a good appearance.  This allowed her to do many good things throughout her life and she was looked upon as a sort of second mother by many women in our small town.  Eileen's insecurities caused her to grow a hard shell around her.  She became a sociophobe and often dragged Kitty to events where she had to interact with others; luckily for Eileen, Kitty could talk to anyone, anywhere.  To isolate herself further, Eileen would often express rather vocal opinions where such opinions were not necessary.  But Eileen, at heart, was a kind and caring person, as much as she tried to hide it.  I saw this part of her over and over during the years I knew her.

Both my mother and Eileen had their faults, but each was a magnificent, wonderful person who cherished her children beyond all measure.  I think Kitty and I both did marvelously in the parenthood lottery.

Kitty, of course, was a fantastic mother, and fierce in the defense of her children.  It was her support, her guidance, her wisdom, and her unerring love that has had our two girls the wonderful people they are.  Everything positive they are I lay to Kitty.  (I fear my contribution to parenthood was in giving the girls slightly larger than normal feet.)  There can no better m other.

Well, actually, there can be.  Two in fact.  Jessie faced young widowhood when Michael suddenly dropped dead of a heart attack at 31 and left her with two young girls to raise.  I don't know how she found the courage or the ability to do so, but Caylee and Amy are two of the most wonderful persons I have ever met, both compassionate and committed, loving and talented.  Christina's children are just as wonderful.  All three of her children are amazing, and all are completely different.  (Caylee and Amy are also completely different; it's amazing that five children can be so perfect in five different ways.  go figure.)  Special kudos for Christina and Walt for my youngest grandchild, Jack, who was born drug-addicted and spent the first six years of his life detoxing at Washington Children's Hospital.  Walt and Christina began fostering Jack the moment he left the hospital and fought hard for him for the next two and a half years until they could legally adopt him.  Children born to drugs have many problems, but with love, patience, and some expert help Jack has come a long, long way.  there is still a way to go but Jack, at eleven, is active, happy, loving, and bright.  He is going to be credit to us all when he's an adult.

It was Kitty who taught us the importance of family, and I think it's Kitty's everlasting love that has helped us all work together as a family.  Together we are strong and invincible.  together we share out love, our respect, and out honor.

On Mothers Day, my thoughts go beyond my immediate family.  There are new and new-ish additions to out extended family.  My niece Sarah (one of the smartest women I know) now has two little boys, the youngest not quite a year old.  They are lucky kids born into love and kindness.  Also lucky is Lily Marie, my niece Julie's little girl, just turned one.  Sarah and Michael and Julie and Tom are great parents and I truly wish every child had parents like them.

My thoughts also go to members of my extended family who have lost children.  My cousin Karen's youngest boy passed away, leaving Karen to raise his young son.  And Kitty's cousin Lyn lost her youngest son, leaving a hole in her heart that can never be fully repaired.   Both of these young men were taken far too early and their loss saddens me.  There is something vaguely obscene about a parent surviving a child.

And on this Mothers Day, I cannot help but think of all those mothers who have lost children throughout the world.  Mothers in Ukraine and in Russia, in Israel and Palestine, mothers of girls under attack in Afghanistan, mothers who are weeping for the victims of a horrible opioid epidemic, mothers who have lost their children to senseless gun violence...

I cannot wish those mothers a Happy Mothers Day.  I only wish I could let each and every one of them that I share their grief, that their loss is also the world's loss.  All I can do is keep on keeping on, spreading love and respect to my children and grandchildren, knowing full well that they will pass it on.  And on.  And on.  Someday... if enough of us do that...we may bring the world to it's senses.

For those of us able to have a Happy Mothers Day, enjoy and celebrate fully.  We are the lucky ones.