Mother’s Day & Me
Posted May 8, 2011on:
Here’s to me. Oh wait, that sounds very selfish.
Here’s to my mom, to my friends and family who are moms and to those who are future moms. And to those moms who were ours who no longer are with us, as those of that generation most likely are not.
Oh, here’s to those who have no interest in being moms and to dads. Oh heck, here’s to everybody.
Perhaps I’ve gone too far. Once again.
I had the opportunity last night to see old movies of friends that showed our collective moms very young, certainly younger than we are today. They were taken when the aging adults that we are today were little kids.
My friend, Jean, was shown with her older sisters, Joy and Judy, all in matching dresses that their mom made for them. They would be on their beds when they woke up on Christmas morning. Occasionally, I was shown in a party dress myself, one with many petticoats underneath. I probably had on those ankle socks and party shoes. I don’t think I wore white gloves to the party, but it was that era.
Among the events shown in the movie-turned video-turned DVD were the Bunny Hop and Charades, the game that became a regular at these family-friends events. In this video, I am shown getting up and attempting to guess what the answer is. And then, I go under a table to act out “Jail House rock” behind bars. I may not have been the first little kid to do that at the party and I certainly didn’t come up with the idea on my own.
Also in these videos were shots of various kids and their parents in their swimming pool, which to this day remains the place I imagine myself when I am in my most relaxed state. Their house was the kind of place where friends and family were always welcomed with love and affection.
I knew I was grown up and beyond when Jean’s mother, who we called Aunt Bertie, stopped inquiring about whether I had on suntan lotion – and it was called that then not sunscreen. Add in the time when my mom stopped buying my bras (which doesn’t seem to important now) and I practically became middle aged over night.
This afternoon, Jean and I plan to have hot fudge sundaes in honor of our mothers and maybe in honor of us, or at least our own love of hot fudge sundaes.
Her mom, incidentally, was the one to talk to me when I stopped wearing a bra in the 1970s. She told me about this new “best of both worlds” bra that did not have padding of any kind. It gave me the appearance of going bra-less.
The best of both worlds bra remains a very funny classic in our collective lives.
A village raised us in an era before we knew that we needed a village to raise us. We were very lucky.
So here’s to Lee and Bertie, Sue and Jean, and all the rest of us who treasure having had mothers or being mothers.
We love them all very much.