In the Inspiring Dread category, Mothers Day is second only to Valentine’s Day. So many ways for it to go wrong! And yet, so easy to make it go right: just call your mom! If she is anything short of a Livia Soprano (remember when she conspired with Uncle Junior to try to whack Tony?) she deserves a call. Not a text. A call.
I have a 30-something acquaintance who recently announced that he does not observe Mothers Day “because it is imposed by society” and he does not allow society to dictate his behavior. My response to him: “Pants!” After all, it is society that dictates that you put on a pair of pants before you go out in public, and last time I saw this guy he was most definitely wearing pants. Put on your big boy pants and tell your mother you love her!
It occurs to me that motherhood is the only career in which performance evaluations continue long after you’ve been fired from the job. The adult child, grown and gone, turns a jaundiced eye upon his or her mother and observes, gasp, that she may have made a mistake or two along the way. The horror! So maybe her meatloaf recipe left something to be desired; she’s still your mom, and unless she is a truly cold-hearted witch (it does happen, and you have my deepest sympathy if that is the case) she would give anything to hear your voice on the second Sunday in May.
I received an email this morning from my 30-something, society-resisting, pants-wearing acquaintance. He wanted to let me know that, pursuant to our conversation, for the first time ever, he sent his mother flowers for Mothers Day. He enclosed a smart-alecky message (he just cannot help himself) but I’m sure the word “love” was in there somewhere. And if this guy can do it, anyone can. Including you. Note for tomorrow: call your mom!