Sunday, May 9, 2021

Celebrating Other Mothers

Lucy with mom and grandmother

 LUCY BURDETTE: John and I went to a tennis event over Mother’s Day weekend with a handful of other couples in the Poconos some years back. I have lovely memories about the weekend, but one thing stuck out--they gave flowers to every woman there. No inquiry as to whether we were biological mothers, as it was assumed (I imagined anyway) that every woman does her share of mothering. In my own life I had a funny, warm mother, but she died when I was in my early twenties. So I had other mothering figures who mattered too. There was a therapist who made a huge difference in helping me understand my history and how it impacted my life. There were teachers who were kind and encouraging. My stepmother treated each kid in my family as if we belonged to her, too. And my dad did his share of mothering after my mother was gone. So that’s the topic for today Reds, a salute to all kinds of mothers. Do tell us about yours!


JENN McKINLAY: I’ve been fortunate to have many motherly figures in my life in addition to my own mom, who is amazing, and my mother-in-law, also amazing. But the one who sticks out is Cay Culberston. She was a transplanted Iowan that I met in Phoenix in 1993 when I began to work for the library system. She had three kids my age (mid-20’s at the time), and she took in my lost expression and folded me and my friend Carole, whose mother had recently passed, right into her family. No hesitation.

We played cards, went to movies, watched the Phoenix Suns, and threw ridiculous parties. She knew every single person who worked for the library as she flitted from department to department, making everyone smile or laugh. When something particularly amused her, she’d pat you on the back so hard the force would knock you forward a few feet. I used to call her butternut, because she had a favorite comfy outfit in the color of a butternut squash. That nickname made her laugh, and she always sent me forward with a hearty thump. It’s been almost nineteen years since she passed, but her words of wisdom are some of my greatest treasures and I’ve passed them on to the Hooligans as needed. And with that legacy, she lives on and is always there just when I need her most.


HALLIE EPHRON: I give my mother complete credit for encouraging me and my three sisters to write. To ignore barriers and barge ahead with supreme confidence. To crack wise and often. As a career woman she was way ahead of her time. But for actual mothering, aka nurturing, I’d never have survived if it hadn’t been for Evelyn Hall and Amelia James Evans, Black women who kept our household stable when it was really anything but. I adored them in what then seemed like an uncomplicated way, not so uncomplicated now, looking back. I’m so grateful.


HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Ah, well? I don’t really have any nurturing experiences like that.  My mom was smart and beautiful and always wanted me to have and be the best. Which meant--what she thought was best, which she often told me. And nothing, no matter how good, was ever good enough. She was right about a lot of things, sure, and I often wish I could tell her so. But cozy nurturing enthusiastic approval? Ah, no. 


My mothers-in-law?  The first one was not happy with me because I was not the sort of person she’d imagined her son marrying.  She didn’t really discuss that--or anything--with me.


The second one was not happy with me because I was not the sort of person she’d imagined her son marrying. And she told me about that quite a bit. 

My third mother in law--who was hilarious and brilliant and unpredictable--was not happy with me because she was not happy about anything. Her first words on meeting me: “My, you’re a big one, aren’t you?” 


RHYS BOWEN: my mom was not cozy either although we became close when I grew up. I was raised by my grandmother and great aunt as my mother always worked. Nanny was the one who sat me on her knee and read to me. Blind aunt Sarah ( known as Min to the family) told me stories and played games of pretend with me. I adored them both, also my godmother, Aunt Gwladys who would whisk me off to heady things like restaurants where you sat on cushions or plays or a trip around Italy. 


DEBORAH CROMBIE: My mom always worked, too, and it was my grandmother, "Nanny," who was the "other mother" in my life. She lived with us from the time I was born and I adored her. We read together, planned globe-trotting adventures together. She was always the one who comforted and encouraged me. I'm sure I didn't tell her often enough how special she was!


Reds, please share with us your stories about other mothers in your lives!


52 comments:

  1. My mom was amazing . . . even though she had a full-time job, she made sure we never missed doing all the things that kids do growing up, whether it was Girl Scouts or dancing lessons or just having fun, she was always supportive, always there for us, always proud of our accomplishments. We were so blessed . . . .

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  2. These stories are making me cry. My mom was nurturing. She taught me to sew and bake and identify stars and birds. And she was a wonderful grandmother to my boys. But I always adored my aunt Jo. I went to visit her and my uncle in San Francisco a lot as a college student and as an adult. She was elegant (which my mom wasn't) AND warm. She was an amazing cook (which my mom wasn't), and had a laugh like a bell. I always wanted to be part of their family, and I was always welcome.

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    1. Such sweet memories! You should put Aunt Jo in a book... or maybe you already have?!

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    2. It could happen! Jo died ten years ago, but I am SO overdue for a visit to Uncle Dick (going strong at 93 and with a new lady friend) and my three "boy" cousins out there - thanks for nothing, COVID.

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  3. I agree, Edith, these stories made me cry, too. Both of my grandmothers and two aunts lived nearby and since I was the first grandchild on each side I got quite a bit of "mothering" although when my brother was born the next year - the first boy on my mother's side of the family - that was a little bit diluted. In the mother-in-law department I was very lucky, too.

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  4. Missing my “day off” today. Mother always said “every day is Mother’s Day”. And, as I grew up and began to understand what that meant, she declared that this second Sunday in May was my day off—the one day out of the year that was NOT Mother’s Day. As soon as the greeting cards appeared each year, I would start sending every sarcastic , silly one to her and we would remind each other how many days left until my day off.

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  5. My mother was a loving person but not always available because of her work. We lived on the first floor of a duplex owned by my grandmother who lived on the second floor. She welcomed me warmly each time I went to her and showed me how to do things and to cook . She was my second mother role.
    My third one was my mother-in-law. She already had 10 children but took me in as one of her own. As my mother died when I was to be 20, my MIL who was very warm and big hugger help me to go through this difficult period and for the rest of her life.

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    1. How very lucky to have all three of those women in your life!

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  6. Happy Mother's Day to all the Reds and Reds-adjacent! My son-in-law in Africa was the first to wish me a good day this morning, which made me tear up a little. Both sons-in-law look to me as their "mom" figure now.

    Hank, I also have had three mothers-in-law, but since my first husband's parents were divorced and remarried, I had two at the same time. Who detested each other. They were both very good to me, though, even long after their son/stepson and I parted. Years later, Steve's mom was aghast that he married a divorced woman. With a kid. And Catholic. Oh, lord. And she compared me constantly to Steve's first wife, to whom he was only married a couple of months before she was killed in a horrific car accident, rending her a saintliness she did not deserve. But once I produced two adorable grand girls, the only of their grandchildren to live in town, all was forgiven.

    Growing up with my mother was difficult. She was cold to her children, probably because she was trapped in a nightmare marriage to an alcoholic. The first time I can remember her hugging me was on my first wedding day. But my maternal grandmother, a couple of my aunts, and a teacher or two made all the difference, and I learned how to "mother" from them. My mom is now the benevolent matriarch of my entire extended family, though. Her next two marriages were both extremely happy, and I think that changed her perspective completely.

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    1. Karen in Ohio,

      Happy Mother's Day. Sending hugs. Thank you for sharing.

      Diana

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    2. Wow, Karen. It's so interesting how we find our ways to kindness and caring, and nurturing, in spite of the poor examples we've seen. It proves that you can choose what type of parent you want to be, no matter what was in the past. I choose to show love.

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    3. Having an "outside" mother can mean a huge difference Karen. Thanks for sharing and glad your mom is doing well now!

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  7. Happy Mother's Day! On Friday evening at 6:30pm, my eyeballs falling out of my head after a ten hour virtual writer's workshop, I sat in queue, waiting to pitch my book. It went well enough and afterwards, my phone buzzed an incoming text. Baby Jack had arrived two weeks early, all was well, and I'm a grandma!

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    1. Perfect way to start Mother's Day weekend! Congratulations to the family, Margaret. May little Jack live a long, happy and healthy life.

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    2. Congratulations, Margaret, on all fronts! Welcome, Baby Jack!

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    3. Wahoo! So wonderful and you'll see, completely divine.

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    4. What a blessing, Margaret. Happy (Grand)Mother's Day!

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    5. Congratulations, Margaret! A Mother's Day blessing!

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    6. Congrats, Margaret! Grandchildren are the best!

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  8. My mom was a nurturing mother--for her children, her younger siblings, her nieces and nephews, the neighborhood children, our friends--strangers my dad brought home to share a holiday meal at her table. One of my older cousins joined the navy right out of high school, then shortly after boot camp, went AWOL. Only my mother knew where he was--he'd come home to marry his sweetheart. Everyone trusted her because they knew she cared. And my grandmothers were the same--nurturing and loving.

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  9. Jungle Reds, thank you for sharing your memories.

    My Mom made a decision to be a different kind of Mom from her mother. So did my Aunt. I am grateful that she is my Mom for many reasons. She visited me in the hospital every day when I was in the hospital for seven weeks with pneumonia / meningitis. She introduced me to reading. Now I love to read and I started a bookstsgram account to get me through the turbulence of the past few years. She was my first teacher before I started school. She had a career as a teacher before I was born and continued to teach after I was born, thanks to a wonderful friend who taught her classes while she was on "sick leave"so that she could stay home with me for the first three months of my life. NO maternity leave in these days. She is beautiful, brilliant and kind.

    Diana

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  10. Happy Mother's Day to Jungle Reds and Reds-adjacents.

    Diana

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  11. Happy Mothers Day, to all the Reds and Readers!

    I had a good mom, which was lucky, because I did not have a good dad. Mom was an art teacher, but took time off to raise my older sister and me until we were old enough to go to school. We grew up thinking that all children were given sketchbooks, crayons, and little pans of watercolors more or less at birth. We were always encouraged to express ourselves. Mom taught me to identify the birds at our bird feeder, and how to sew on buttons. She read to us every night before bed until I was old enough to read myself. And every summer we would go up to visit her parents for two glorious weeks, when she would take us to art museums and give us unlimited time off from housework to read.

    When she went back to teaching, she became "the cool teacher," always nurturing those kids who didn't quite fit in to 1960s-'70s high school norms: the gay kids, the "weird" kids, the kids who needed a safe place to be during the day. I'm still friends with some of those kids, who will not stand to hear even a little daughterly griping about her cooking skills or obstinance in old age.

    She wasn't very adventuresome herself, but she always loved hearing about my adventures. She died just 14 months after Warren did, and I miss her all the time.

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    1. Hugs, Gigi. I lost my mom ten months after Ross died, and it was such a blow. Life really goes after us with both fists some times, doesn't it?

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    2. What terrible timing Gigi and Julia!! Gigi, did you end up with artistic talent? How I wish I had some of that...

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    3. Lucy, I lean toward writing and music, rather than the visual arts, but I do design very nice quilts.

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  12. I think I gave my mom short shrift. She was complicated but she was loving and supportive, and we were very close as I got older. It occurs to me now that maybe she even resented my attachment to my grandmother a bit. And she was a wonderful grandmother to my daughter. Sometimes all that nurturing skips a generation.

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    1. Most of our mothers were complicated, right Debs? Being a mother is complicated, for heaven's sake!

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  13. It's not really all that "happy" a day for me.

    I do wish all those who are moms or have one a Happy Mother's Day but with my being gone nearly five years now, this day is now a bit of a downer. Not stay in bed depressed all day or anything but much like when I have to get rid of something that was hers, it's a renewed sense of sorrow that she's not here anymore.

    There's a couple of women (Roseann and Maryellen) that check in on me every so often that would technically be considered "other mothers" but it is obviously not the same.

    My mom was a badass. When we were young, she broke her leg and was in a wheelchair. But that didn't stop her from playing street football with all the neighborhood kids. She told off a nun that said she had to tell us that "god protected them" by saying, "Don't tell me that, my husband goes to work with a gun on his waist". She didn't suffer the school system doing stupid things or the cops who would be rude to her when they'd call the house looking for my dad.

    When I was having a year of hell with a 7th grade homeroom teacher, she got so fed up with another phone call from the principal, that she told him to clear a room and she'd bring the boxing gloves. The principal's response, "Are you kidding, Jay would kill him!" I got put on notice by my mom of course because we were held to account for our actions all the time. However, she told the teacher to grow up as well. Throwing me out of class because I opened a door and then throwing me out the very next day because I refused to open the very same door didn't sit well with her.

    She didn't go out of her way to find something to "fight" about but she stood up for herself and her family and friends. She didn't suffer fools gladly, a trait I carry with me.

    I guess you could say that I know my mom was kind of awesome. I guess at least I can be happy that she was my mom for as long as she was.

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    1. Hugs, Jay. I wish I could have known her. She sounds awesome!

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    2. Agreed, Jay. Your mom sounds like a total badass, and I bet she was a hoot to know.

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    3. thanks for sharing your mom stories Jay! I love that she was a badass

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  14. Happy Day to all who mother in one way or another. I am lucky in that I have a mother who is loving and kind and generous. And still alive and kicking at 92.

    Thank you for the stories here. Mothering comes in all shapes and sizes and ways and means, doesn't it.

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  15. I won the mom lottery, for sure, and my mom is I still here and has been the greatest source of comfort to us all even while struggling with her greatest personal loss. I’d be sunk without her. That being said I call Mother’s Day, Complicated Emotion Day. I know too many people who suffer through this day to be able to be overly joyful about it. Hugs to all who struggle. I get it.

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    1. Perfectly said Jenn, from hereon, we'll call it Complicated Emotion Day

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  16. My mother was 43, almost 44 when she had me (father was 52). I was the last of four children, well, five, but baby Rebecca in the middle didn't make it past six months. Mommy, as I called her, had already had a teaching career of almost twenty years as a third grade elementary teacher. She went to college young, age 16, and taught when she was young. Apparently, it was hoped that I'd be another boy, with two girls and a boy already birthed, but out I came as a girl. I base the expectation of a boy on several cards I came across after her death to my mother about my arrival, in which the friends expressed their sorrow that I wasn't a boy. Kind of condolence congratulations. But, I never knew I should have been a boy, and my mother seemed delighted with me. I was a good kid and kinda cute, so that probably helped endear me to her. She was full of love for me and I for her.

    She worked hard for our family, doing all the motherly and wifely duties without complaining. I think she should have complained, because I think she was taken for granted way too much. The holiday dinners alone were amazing and cooked without any help from the rest of us. Maybe she should have required more of us; maybe we should have just helped more. I feel like my father took her way too for granted, but I guess they were very traditional, in that he provided well for us, and Mommy took care of everything in the home.

    She was always my greatest support in my academics. She valued education and learning enormously. My love of reading and my valuing it began with my mother. She always made sure there were books under the Christmas tree for me. And, if I were sitting around reading, she didn't fuss at me to do something else. I got to think of reading as a valuable use of time. What a great gift that is. My performance in school was a point of pride for her, and being valedictorian of my high school graduating class was as much a thrill to her as to me. She helped me navigate my way through college catalogues, and I often thought she would have made an excellent college counselor.

    I lost Mommy when I was forty years old. My kids were 10 and 6, and I'm sorry she didn't get to see them as older. She would have so loved them as adults. But, I was at least glad my kids got to be with her a little bit. I never knew either set of my grandparents, all dead before I was born. It's been 26 years since I've heard my mother's voice say my name, and I would so love to hear that again. For some reason, I've especially been missing her this mother's day. Maybe because I've been able now to spend actual time with my daughter and her family, and my son is coming in later today. So, it's been a family focused time, and at the heart of my family love will always be my mother.

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    1. thanks for that, Kathy, I especially love this line: I got to think of reading as a valuable use of time. What a great gift that is.

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  17. I can't believe I missed adding to this - I have a friend visiting (!) from Colorado, and we've been hanging out together and marveling in the freedom (post vaccines) to go out to restaurants!

    Jenn is right - Complicated Emotion Day is a good word for it. Like Hank's mother, my mom wanted the best for her children, and didn't hesitate to tell you what that was. A lot of the success in my life is due to her high expectations. She was one of the funniest women I know, with a sarcastic wit that could pin you to your chair. She was an expert at asking to see the manager, but so well-spoken, he'd thank her for bringing the problem to his attention. She was incredibly tight-fisted and didn't blink at giving me the money to spend a year abroad in Italy and London. She doted on her husband and raised her daughters to be able to take care of themselves without a man. She would critique my manuscripts mercilessly and urge everyone she met to buy my books.

    I miss my complicated, acerbic, funny mother terribly; this is the third Mothers Day without her. I doubt there will ever NOT be a large empty space at the center of this day.

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    1. Julia, my mom's been gone 23 years now. I keep her alive in the stories I tell to her grandchildren and to the great-grandchildren she never got to meet. That empty space I fill with memories--23 years later, though, I miss her still and (especially this year) wish for one more hug from my mama.

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    2. She has always sounded amazing Julia, and I agree, the empty space is always there.

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  18. Happy Mother's Day, dear Reds. I am especially buoyed to read this Mother's Day, about how so many of you rose above those displays of cool displeasure to become some of the kindest most supportive women I know. I choose to show love and support to those who depend upon me. Perhaps I have the luxury to do so, but nevertheless, I know that I improved upon the models set before me. Much love.

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  19. My mom was anything but nurturing, to me, that is. Everyone else adored her. I used to resent her criticism. Her childhood was filled with insecurities. A trait she passed on, successfully, to me. Through love and respect of my second husband, I learned confidence and self-worth. Since her death, in 2002, I've come to love and appreciate all she did give to me and reconcile all she simply couldn't give. I love her and miss her to this day.

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  20. My mom was similar to Hank's and Mary's. Not nurturing. But as Mary said, everyone else adored her. She was from England with a posh accent so everyone fell under her spell. She encouraged me--as long as I did it her way. I loved her, but didn't like her. She did however break many boundaries that most women faced and toward the end of her life, she told me she was jealous of all the things I was able to do with my life. I wish we could have been closer as far as the heart goes, but with her stiff upper lip and judgements, it was difficult to open up to her. But I've changed that with my family, giving unconditionally and empowering them whenever I can. I love to hug and be close to my son, granddaughters, and great-grandchildren. Nothing makes me happier--other than publishing my novels.
    One of my granddaughters asked me a question when she was little: which do you love most, us or your writing. I almost choked, but replied, "Sweetie, that's comparing apples and oranges." After that I was careful to include them in my writing life, giving them story ideas and making movies with a script we wrote. My parents made sure that children were seen and not heard, old school. As I've told many people, perception of our family was more important than reality. Much love to all you moms out there who nurture and love their family. What a gift.

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