Random Thoughts from a Restless Mind

Dr. Darrell White's Personal Blog

Cape Cod

The Orphans: Mother’s Day musings…5/14/2023

It’s Mother’s Day here on the North Coast and elsewhere across the land. A day widely acknowledged as the invention of a greetings card company in pursuit of a card-giving occasion, and despite this a day equally accepted as one worthy of the observance. In years past I have encouraged the tiny, but meaningful option of re-naming it “Mommy’s Day”; those who actively pursue the state of active mothering, Moms, in my opinion more deserving of the adoration of the day.

Do you still have a Mom? If so you’ve already called her, right? Come on, it’s way late in the day for me to be typing this, and if you haven’t called what the heck are you waiting for? I just took a quick look at Facebook and the first thing that came up was an acquaintance, Geoff, whose Mom made it to today before she shrugged off the chains of this life. All of her kids were there to wish her a happy Mother’s Day as she went on her way. Crazy, huh? They got to say a final Happy Mother’s Day just before they all became orphans.

And you’ve not called your Mom because, why?

If you think about it at all, it doesn’t matter when it happens, but the death of your only remaining parent makes you an orphan in the most traditional sense. Even if you are 40, 50, or 60+, losing your last parent means that you are now an orphan. When Beth’s Mom passed away some five years ago, not too very long after her Dad, Beth became an orphan. However trite, however commercial it might be, we all feel the tug of our Moms on Mother’s Day.

From what I’ve observed over my lifetime, there are sadder ways to be orphaned. We have more than several friends who were abandoned by a parent early in life, leaving them with only one left to lose in the more “traditional” way. A couple of special people in our lives were “left” by parents who may as well have died, so dead did they become by leaving behind their child or children. One wonders if it is the same as losing that last parent to death. I confess that I’ve not been brave enough to ask.

It’s been a couple of weeks since I wrote about my visit to see my Mom. About how small everything seems now. It’s as if my siblings and I have to pay ever closer attention lest she shrinks until she just disappears. What a joy it was to hear her voice today. Hear how strong, how BIG it sounded. Having lost my Dad some 7 years ago I know that one day I, too, will become an orphan. But not today, you know?

Not today.

There’s no lesson here. Well, at least not much of a grand lesson anyway. It’s almost dinner time on the East Coast, and it’s still Mother’s Day. I hope that you, like me, like Beth, were blessed to grow up with someone who was Mom, or Mommy. No matter how old you are today, I hope that you still have her, and that she is not only alive but not yet small. Still big in your life. Today is not a day for the conveniences of our modern world. No texting, no snapping, no WhatsApping. Pick up the phone and call your Mom.

No one is there to answer the phone once you’ve become an orphan.

I’ll see you next week…

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