Brain Droppings: Mothers!


I was going to talk about Taxes this week, I also had a minor point I wanted to make about the rich.

But instead. I’m gonna talk about your mothers.

That’s right. This 6’2 , 330 pound white guy is about to speak on your mothers.

All of them.

I’m not going to name names here, but I have had two people that I come to know in my time spinning on this Earth have had their worlds shook by bad things happening. Thankfully one was very minor, and one was terrible. A very nice woman has lost her fight with Cancer.

Mother1I’m sorry to say I know how they feel. My own mother lost her battle with Cancer far too long ago, never having seen her 4th grandchild from me that bears her name. My Mother was given 6 months, retired and lasted only a few weeks, passing away in a hospice. I have a good man that is in mourning who’s mom will never see him married to the man he loves. (that’s another topic) I grieve for my friends. I ‘ve only met her once, but I hope she is in heaven looking at what a fine son she raised. Buddy #1 is one of the finest people on this planet, and I hope thoughts of his mom keeps him warm on those cold Canada nights.

Buddy #2 was far luckier, if you can count it that way. His mother had a minor scare, but is fine now, to the best of my knowledge. She raised a fine son as well, as far as I know, and both Mothers should know that other than having poor taste in people they talk too, are good upstanding men with good hearts. (as far as I know)

I miss my mother terribly. I fully admit that I didn’t treat her as well as I should have and I regret not calling her more often. One of my biggest regrets is her buying me a video camera so she could get movies of her grandchild, but not getting any movies. Just one of those things I never got around to doing, and I still ache about it. That daughter is in college now. Time marches on, and sometimes people and loved ones march on by the wayside.

mother2Mothers hold a special place in our hearts, and for good reason. I grew up in a neighborhood where only one friend had a father 24/7, the rest of us either children of divorce and seeing them rarely, or in my case, not having one of note for the first 13 years of life. I never needed a father, I had a strong willed mother that could whip anyone in her neighborhood, a fact I have been told by other people that gerw up with her. Lets just say my Mom was not exactly brought up in the best of times or in the best of homes, but she did the best she could, we didn’t always have full bellies, and lord knows I took my share of beatings, but we always knew we were loved more than anything else. My Mom had a ton of heartache in her life, from buring her loved ones to fighting her way through life. I’m not saying that my Mom did anything special or extra-ordinary. She was simply a special woman in my life, and did what it took to get her kids through life. I miss her terribly. I’m sure my buddy does as well. I’m a bit ashamed how little I called her, thinking I’ll call her next weekend, or next time I have all the kids together.

Time ran out. Don’t let it run out on yours.

Mother3Its kind of stunning to go through my facebook feed, and see how many people are in similar situations. You have people talking about wanting prayers, or they have lost loved ones. I would urge you to not make the same mistakes that I have made. Call your mothers, go visit her. If you were lucky enough to have a father, please give him a call or visit as well. Even if you didn’t have the best mother in the world, as I did, or even if you might have had a bad relationship, at least give it a shot. If you just can’t stand the woman, send her a card. Out of respect for those of us that have run out of time, or just got reminders that our mothers are not immortal, make contact however you choose.

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  1. David,

    Thanks for this post. I’m sure that your humanity has come through previously, but I see it most clearly here.

    My own background growing up was “standard normal” in a middle class nuclear family. My Dad and I communicated frequently by “argument,” which annoyed my mother since it sounded to her like anger. But I wrote poetry which my mother appreciated. I attach her favorite at the end.

    When I became a grup, I married, had two daughters, divorced, and got custody of my children. They are now women in their fifties. I am about to take my annual “daughter-hopping” trek to visit them.

    I agree that mothers are important to us in many ways that we do not always understand while growing. But so are fathers. I have heard often of the importance of the family as a loving and support system, but I don’t think I realized how true it was until almost too late,.


    The edge of people cut keenly across one another.
    Wide swathes of love and pain are mowed.
    We smile violetly at one another only dimly guessing
    That they, too, are climbing jagged mountains,

    . . . . . The grains of caring, when harvested,
    . . . . . Shall provide the staff of life . . . forever.

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