Mothers everywhere, unite! This is your day.
For 364 days a year you put yourself on the bottom of the priority list. The needs and wants of your offspring inspire immediate response, and the hurts and wounds of your children elicit the nurturing and caring elements that make you who you are. Now, one and all, pat yourselves on the back for all you’ve done.
Now, get out of the way. This is about my mommy.
Make no mistake about it, I am a momma’s boy. Oh, I’ve done the guy things, from playing sports to barroom brawls to clipping my toe nails with serving utensils to serving as a Marine, but when all’s said and done, it’s Elizabeth McCann I worry about when bad things happen in the world. And it’s the same lady I turn to when I need the unconditional reassurances and love only she can provide.
And, oh yeah, she can put the fear of God into me more quickly than any other person on the face of the earth.
I often wonder about how she can create such anxiety in me. She’s not a large woman. I’ve never seen her wield a weapon or punch a bunny rabbit or anything as traumatic as that. She’s just always been able to put her foot down with me, and my father, to an extent nobody else in the history of the world has been able to do so consistently. Now, my little sister, that’s a different story. She stands up to my mom like the ungrateful little ...
But I digress.
Actually, wait, maybe that is the ticket. Being grateful. See, I remember watching my mother at the kitchen table late at night working on homework as she went back to college as an adult. I remember her not having anybody to watch me and accompanying her to classes at the University of Maryland as she juggled so many things into a day. And I remember meals being cooked and boo-boos being bandaged and drives to various practices and police interviews while my father was working 80 hours a week, attempting to do his part in keeping food on the table, while wishing he was home more with us.
I guess it’s about appreciation, and I certainly appreciate her.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. I love you.
What a Mother’s Day for our very own publisher, Susan Lyons, this year. Her own three kids are all doing great with their lives, and her daughter, Sarah, just gave birth last Saturday to Lily May Hoban, Susan’s first grandchild.
However, if one thought the “Sue-Mommy” that erupted around here when Sarah was getting married was scary, the scene around here leading up to the baby shower and impending birth was ...
No, the wedding was much worse.
Susan seemed almost at ease throughout this process. Eerily so, if you ask me. Oh, we had a few minor eruptions with the questioning of her advancing years, and there were a few tense moments when Sarah (rightfully so) refused to tell the waiting grandparents the name of the child until it was born but, all in all, it went fairly smooth around here.
I’m excited for Susan and her husband, Andy. Never have two people been more deserving of being grandparents. The two of them have basically adopted this entire staff as their pseudo-children, and their own children have kind of taken us in as de facto brothers and sisters. It’s been one heck of a second family we’ve been able to build here in Coastal Point Land, and Susan and Andy have sat at the head of the table.
Now, if I could only get Susan to raise my allowance a little bit ...
But, yet again, I digress.
Happy Mother’s Day to Sarah on her first, and to Susan and Cindy Hoban on her latest. And to Shirley Cobb once again.
There are others, in this office, who are due to give birth in the coming months, but I’d rather not get into a when-does-life-actually-begin discussion. So, without me disrupting their privacy, let me just tell them all our thoughts and prayers are with them during this time, and I’ll reserve space for them in next year’s column.
While I’m on this little roll, let me also give out Mother’s Day wishes to Beth Long and Carolyn Fitz. Their dedication to their own children is inspiring, and something I hope to emulate one day if so blessed.
Kathy Adkins, I’d be remiss if I didn’t wish you a Happy Mother’s Day while I’m writing this. Thank you for the wonderful job you’ve done with your own children and grandchildren, and the surrogate job you’ve done with me over the past nine months.
Mothers in general, enjoy this day and revel in it. Come Monday, we all start taking you for granted again.