WE ARE THE MOTHERS

Growing up with three sisters and a lively mother, you’d think we would have heard our share of princess stories, had racks of high-heeled shoes and drawers of make-up and bras. But our father was the storyteller and it was ALWAYS about the war, a story that would be more of a high seas adventure, than the real life adventure, he actually experienced.

My mother wore the heels in the family, my sisters, the girls, were not so keen. Two of us had flat feet. I don’t know about the other two. Our mother didn’t wear much make-up and she didn’t wear any eye make-up at all, which was unfortunate. I was dying to learn the application technique of the cat eye, so popular in the 60’s. Thankfully, our oldest sister had some skill in that department and we just followed her lead, which was still limited at best. And since we had to buy our own make-up and we weren’t exactly entrepreneurs, our stockpile was pathetic. And then there was the issue of Catholic high school rules, which forbade make-up, except for picture day and dances. Most girls got away with mascara and liner; the blue eye shadow was much too obvious. 

And bras? That was definitely something we couldn’t share, so that was also in short supply. One was endowed, one was small, one was uneven and one was flat. As we aged, that all changed, but we were out of the house by then. 

Maybe it’s good we weren’t the girly, girls, since out of the nine kids we had among us, six were boys. I myself was terrible with hair and makeup, so my daughter had to figure that out on her own. Well, in camp, actually. Camp was where she learned how to swim, how to craft and how to produce the smoky eye. Thank God for camp! But I digress. We managed with our boys too. Our athletic, quiet, loud, tall, short boys. Line them all up and they tell quite a contrasting story. Line the three girls up and they appear related and in tune with the same familial traits. But we raised them. With difficulty, with strength, with humor and with tears. We were also career women - a trait we learned from our own mother. To be independent, to make your own money, to do it yourself. If you want something badly enough, you have to work for it. 

Motherhood was one of those things we wanted badly enough, even though we’d struggle with childcare, long commutes to work and life in general. We were not heroines trying to save the planet or were extra-special in any way. We went from the girls to the mothers, just living our lives and raising our kids the best that we could. And we loved them fiercely. 

Whatever your story is, let’s celebrate. To the mothers that you are, the mother that you are becoming, the mothers in your life and the mothers that will forever be in our hearts. 

Happy Mother’s Day! 

Dedicating this Mother’s Day, 2022, to my sister, Yolanda (1951- 2021).