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hilary kanter i
Of bears, and cards, and Mother's Day understood
Date published: 5/14/2006 By hilary kanter LEARNED a few days ago that Mother's Day was conceived by poet and social activist Julia Ward Howe in 1870 to honor the inherent pacificity of mothers. What a lovely concept. In the ensuing years, it's become one of the largest card-sending holidays and a major boon to both the telephone and restaurant industries. Mother's Day for me started years before it should have. My grandmother used to send me Mother's Day cards when I was in my 20s and early 30s--before I had children. Nice gesture, but I was puzzled by it. I didn't feel I'd earned the right to receive Mother's Day cards, and I was puzzled by the sentiments within them. I asked her about it then, simply curious as to why she'd send a Mother's Day card to a non-mother, and she explained, "Well, you'll be a mother someday ." I thought, sure, yes, I'd like that very much. But something about it didn't feel right to me. I was supposed to be sending Mother's Day cards, not receiving them. Still, I understood my grandmother's reasoning. I knew in my heart of hearts that I'd have children eventually--but I wasn't in a hurry. I thanked her for the cards and filed them away without much thought. My grandmother, a very wise and active woman, is 93 now. I asked her last night if she remembers how she used to send cards to me--prematurely, in my opinion. "Sure," she said. "I did it because Mother's Day represents the cycle of life. Life is past, present, and future. I'm the past, your mother is the present, and you're the future. It all ties in." Of course. My first real Mother's Day was May 10, 1998. Flowers were ceremoniously presented by my always thoughtful husband. My grandmother sent me a lovely card, but this time it felt completely different. And I was thrilled to receive it. The day was memorable. My husband and I joined my brother and his wife for a Dim Sum brunch at a Chinese restaurant in Arlington. Baby Lindsey, then just 6 weeks old and no bigger than a platter of shrimp Lo Mein, sat in her car seat on top of the table. She watched while the adults around her ate with chopsticks and dropped dumplings onto their laps. I think she may have smiled.
Date published: 5/14/2006
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