Another Mother’s Day. People are running around doing the generally scripted routines. Children are busy making crafts at school to take home for mommies. Other are buying cards, gifts and flowers or planning to take their mothers out. The more creative are planning surprise trips, a night at the theatre or something to make Mom feel special. Where I grew up, there was no special day of recognition for mothers. But I can’t help thinking of the wonderful role moms have played all over the world and how it continues to change over times and geography. For me and my three siblings, going home from school always meant going home to Mom. If ever she wasn’t at home, we would be so disappointed, almost feel cheated. Sometimes she would make it home from shopping or wherever barely minutes before us. Her lipstick and clothes would give her away and we would have tons of questions about her outing. ”She surely couldn’t have enjoyed it without us” was written all over our faces. She sent freshly made hot lunches for us to school. She would play ”I spy” with us after helping us with our homework. When we were sick, we believed — as did she — that it was her prime duty to hover over us and make us feel special. As we grew older, she was our conduit to communicate with our much stricter father. We all knew that most of their communication happened on their long morning walks. We would work on her the night before making sure we had drilled all our arguments soundly into her head. Whether it was that we wanted to buy something, go on a trip or go to university, she would be the first parent to know. She would never commit to advocating for us, but never failed to do so, because whenever they returned from their walks our dad would be all ears for what we had to say about that particular subject. She cried a lot after my wedding as I prepared to leave home. When I delivered my first child, she was my primary care provider. She would bathe my baby, change diapers, wake up in the middle of the night and bring the baby to me to be nursed and wait to put her back in the crib. Even today she remains the only person in the whole world I could wake up any time and ask for help with anything. When she visits now, she is always looking for things to do to make life easier for me, like attacking my mending basket, doing laundry or cooking. But mostly her visits mean that my kids have someone to come home to. In their normal routine, my children don’t see me for at least a couple of hours after they get off from school. When I do come home, their entreaties accompany the hugs and kisses at the door: ”Mom can I have a friend over?” ”Can I go play with … ” ”My teacher wants to know if I can take some cupcakes to school on Thursday.” The questions barely register. ”Hold it, guys, I can’t think straight right now,” I usually say. I need time to unwind before I can answer them. I see the resignation on their faces as they quickly honour my need. After a cup of tea and a chance to rest, we need to get supper going. While the kids help out setting the table and preparing the salad, we talk about the day. Soccer practice and martial arts days add more of an urgency to our supper routines. The decision between my husband and I over who is driving whom to where adds a little stress of its own. Once in the car, it takes a few minutes before I can start enjoying the children’s conversation and it lasts until we hit what homework has been done and what still needs to be completed on return. If one of the kids gets sick, my husband and I begin by looking at our calendars to figure out who can stay home for what parts of the day. Occasionally it means taking the child to one of our workplaces after a visit to the doctor. It is not that I love my children less than my mom loved us. It is just that our realities of place, time and lifestyle are different. She stayed home, I work outside the home. She and my father could afford to raise us on one income. We can’t. She was content to take pride in my father’s career. I have always wanted a career of my own. Career fulfillment and the extra resources help me become a better mom (I think). For her, she was unconditionally a complete mom. To all the moms who have to make these choices, Happy Mother’s Day! Manpreet Grewal’s column appears regularly in Forum.
