Who’s Yuor Ma’ Ma’

Posted: 2013/05/05 in Uncategorized

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My mother is no longer with me. She took her last breath and died while I was holding her hand many years ago. She died laying in her own bed in her trailer in Hemet California; I can still see her deep brown eyes looking into mine as she let out her last breath and never took in another one.

The thing I most remember about my mother is how she lived in a small two bedroom house all her life, worked at home and then went to a job so we didn’t have to go without, how she never drove a car or asked for anything for herself. I watched her cry every Christmas and never understood why. I love my mother, she was a simple woman who loved G-d as I do today.

Here is another story about a mother my friend wrote:

MOM
It wasn’t until I was in my twenties and married for a few years, when I realized that my mother was human. As a child, I had placed her on such a high pedestal that there was no way she could do any wrong.

Imagine if you would raising seven small children ranging in ages from 1 to 9, almost single-handedly, working a full shift as a waitress in the evenings, helping your self-employed gardener husband on his daily route, and somewhere in-between all that, cooking, cleaning and sleeping. You’d think it couldn’t be done, right? Wrong! It was and look out Wonder Woman, my mother did it!

What I remember most about my mother was her overwhelming love and protection for her seven helpless babes. If mom was home, we were happy, we were safe. At times when my dad would go on one of his drunken rampages, we would cry and beg our mom not to leave us. Since she couldn’t afford to lose her job, she’d load us seven, scraggly kids into her beat up old jalopy and off we’d go to work…with her. Sometimes we would get to go inside where her boss would treat us to chocolate milkshakes. Other times, we would have to remain in the car. We would wait anxiously for our mom to check up on us because she rarely came empty-handed. It was fun for us kids, sort of like a vacation.

Another thing that I will always remember about my mom was how very beautiful she was. She had a natural beauty. She didn’t wear much make-up, but I can clearly picture that coral tinted lipstick and watching her pucker and move her lips just so to spread the lively color on evenly. She’d wear her hair up in French roll twists with dancing curl wiglets positioned perfectly in place on top of her head. And when mom smiled, the glow from her face could light up a darkened room.

Being a waitress, your smile has a direct impact on your tips. Smile frequently; get a pocket full of change, smile seldom; get a pocket full of lint. Mom told me something once that I’ll never forget. “xxxxx,” she said, “No matter how bad I feel, or what kind of a day I’ve had, even if I don’t feel like it, I have to smile. I have to smile for those quarters.” I really felt bad for her that day, but whenever I think I can’t go on another day at work, I remember what she said and I feel ashamed of myself.

I cannot begin to imagine the pressures of life that must have bombarded her at times. They must have been unbearable for her and that will explain the nervous breakdowns she had. It was probably during those times when she took to drinking with my dad. I also think that she was a very lonely person (even with seven kids,) and that was the only time my dad would give her any (meaningful?) attention.

The only trouble was my mother wasn’t able to handle her alcohol consumption. She’d drink and drink and become louder and louder. Any little thing that my dad would say to her set her off. Then came the knock-down-drag-out fights between my mom and dad, usually with my mom coming out in the lead. I didn’t think any less of my mother when she drank, at least when I was young. She never became violent with us kids, only my dad and I felt he deserved it.

As an adult, my mother has been a constant source of strength for me, in being able to cope with the pressures of my own family. During the times when my busy life is being bombarded from all directions and I want to throw in the towel, I think of my mother and her life and say, “If she could do it and survive, well then, so can I!”………………………………………………………………………………..

Anna Marie Jarvis (May 1, 1864, Webster, West Virginia – November 24, 1948, West Chester, Pennsylvania) is the founder of the Mother’s Day holiday in the United States.

Anna’s mother Ann Jarvis had founded Mothers’ Day Work Clubs in five cities to improve sanitary and health conditions. The Mothers’ Day Work Clubs also treated wounds, fed, and clothed both Union and Confederate soldiers with neutrality.

On May 12, 1907, two years after her mother’s death, Anna held a memorial to her mother and thereafter embarked upon a campaign to make “Mother’s Day” a recognized holiday. She succeeded in making this nationally recognized in 1914. The International Mother’s Day Shrine was established in Grafton to commemorate her accomplishment.
By the 1920s, Anna Jarvis had become soured by the commercialization of the holiday. She incorporated herself as the Mother’s Day International Association, trademarked the phrases “second Sunday in May” and “Mother’s Day”, and was once arrested for disturbing the peace. She and her sister Ellsinore spent their family inheritance campaigning against what the holiday had become. Both died in poverty.

According to her New York Times obituary, Jarvis became embittered because too many people sent their mothers a printed greeting card. As she said,

“A printed card means nothing except that you are too lazy to write to the woman who has done more for you than anyone in the world. And candy! You take a box to Mother—and then eat most of it yourself. A pretty sentiment. “
Anna Jarvis

Some may think their mothers are evil and sinister, but your mother provided the gate into life. Without your mother and G-ds will you would not be here.

Some of us are slaves and some are free, but we all are here by G-ds will not your own will or your mothers.
Honor your Mother not for giving you birth, but the opportunity for you to experience life and find the Divine Nature, my mother is not alive, I don’t know where she went, all I know is she is not here. I honor my mother not for what she gave me, but for the chance to be born again into the house of G-d.

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Comments
  1. Sarah says:

    Brought a tear to my eye!

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