Mother Lore

Poor Anna Jarvis! As we enjoy our Hallmark cards, boxes of Godiva chocolates, and long stem roses this Sunday, Anna will be rolling around in her grave shouting, “This is not what I intended for Mother’s Day!”

In the late 1800’s, Anna’s mother had established a Mother’s Work Day to raise awareness of the poor health conditions in my hometown turf of Appalachia. When she died, Anna swore at her grave that she would dedicate her life to establishing a national Mother’s Day. She quit her day job and started writing letters and schmoozing politicians. In 1908, she got a bill drafted in the Senate, but it was killed and sent back to committee. Obviously, those Senators were an ungrateful group of sons. Can you imagine giving birth around the time of the Civil War?

Eventually, President Woodrow Wilson came through with the votes and in 1914, an official Mother’s Day was established nationwide. At this point, you’d think Anna would be thrilled. Mission accomplished. Not quite. She became appalled over the selling of flowers and greeting cards and protested that this was to be a day of sentiment, not commercialization. She filed a lawsuit to stop Mother’s Day, but was unsuccessful. By then, I’m sure America’s moms were saying, “You’ve done good, girlfriend. Now go on home and let us put our feet up for one day a year.”

Eventually, Anna Jarvis died blind, penniless and alone. Now how’s that for an uplifting piece of Women’s history?

Anna devoted her life to having celebrating motherhood, yet she was never able to experience being a mother. From day one, I wanted to be a mom, although there were times when I thought it might not happen. As a little girl, I played house for hours with my Baby Tender Love. I planned out my adult life: I would go to college, travel for a couple of years and marry at the age of twenty-four. I would have three children, two years apart. Unlike my mother, I would use cloth napkins at dinner, let my children paint on a wall in the kitchen, and never ever tell them what to wear.

As life goes, I got de-railed a bit from my plan and spent my twenties and thirties traveling and working in the film business. Unlike Anna, I didn’t dedicate myself to my mother’s wishes, but I always tried to make her proud. When I was heading into my late thirties, she came to visit me in Los Angeles with a thought in mind.

“I know you have always wanted to be a mom,” my mother said. “Have you thought about freezing your eggs?”

How’s that for a wake-up call? I madly defended myself with a list of boyfriends and turned down marriage proposals, but it definitely got me thinking. If I was to become a mom, I needed to do something about it. So I dated a couple of more frogs, and then a few more frogs, until I eventually met my prince.

“Two more days until Mother’s Day!” my four-year-old daughter squeals with joy.

“How many hours are left?” my older daughter asks as she attempts to calculate how long until Mommy is served a nonfat latte and Krispy Kreme donuts in bed. And finally the golden words from my husband, “It’s your day. I will do whatever you want.” (Although, as I send this to my editor, he says he has no recollection of saying that!)

So dear Anna, please don’t fret. To honor your wishes this year, I will insist on no cards or presents for Mother’s Day. Instead, I would like a day with no early wake-up calls, no cooking, no cleaning, no laundry, no grocery shopping, no time outs and no bill paying. As if that is going to happen! I think I’d better stick with the excitement of breakfast in bed with my girls and a nice dinner with cloth napkins. Time spent together, whether in person or on the phone, is the true meaning of Mother’s Day. Not that there’d be anything wrong with a spa gift certificate or two.