A Tribute to Mothers Day
~**~**~**~ 

Honoring Anna Jarvis

Kay Seefeldt

Many people may not know the name Anna Jarvis, but we certainly
recognize the special day she founded, Mother??™s Day. But Anna Jarvis
didn??™t intend for Mother??™s Day to become a day of celebration for
retailers.

Anna loved her mother so much she did every thing in her power to
establish a special day to honor her and all mothers, living and
dead. She also started the tradition of wearing white carnations if a
mother was deceased and pink if she was still living. She wanted that
day to be one of sentiment, not obligation or tremendous outlay of
expense.

After finally successfully founding the day, she spent her remaining
years trying to combat its exploitation. She lost the battle to the
infiltrating effects of commercialization. Before her death, she
admitted that she regretted starting Mother??™s Day because of the
disappointing way it had turned out.

No one group of people deserves a special day more than mothers. It
gives children a way to atone for all the untold ???agony??? they may have
put their mother through. Mothers live in a state of sleep deprivation
and anxiety worrying about their wayward or sick children. They have
nurtured, scolded, praised, and most certainly, ???ruined??? countless
childhoods by setting limits on obnoxious and defiant behaviors.
Mothers certainly have sacrificed.

One time when I had stayed out way past my curfew, my own mother, who
was slightly overweight, chased me up the stairs wielding a broom. I
figured I could out easily outdistance her, and thus get into my room,
slam, and lock the door to stave off any justifiable punishment. (Did I
forget to mention I was quite the sassy mouthed, know-it-all at this
point in my life?) However, she seemed to make it to my room before I
did without so much as breaking into a sweat. I jumped on the bed and
screamed as the relentless broom cuffed at my feet, ankles, and knees.

My mother knew about ???tough love??? before the phrase was coined. I
learned my lesson and was home at a reasonable hour after that...not
some self appointed time after midnight when I felt like strolling in.

Most of all, mothers love unconditionally. Through the best of times
and through the worst. I believe it was Dear Abby who wrote in response
to a mother who was having difficulty with her unruly teenager, ???When
teenagers deserve love the least, that is when they need it the most.???
That little quote kept me going through countless stressful days of my
own children??™s trying adolescence.

On the radio recently, I heard a stay-at-home-mom, if paid what she is
worth economically, would make over $120,000 per year.

It is impossible to put a monetary value on having a mom at home
rearing her own children. Ezra Taft Benson said it best: A child needs
a mother more than all the things money can buy. Spending time with
your children is the greatest gift of all.

Spending quality time with your own mom might be the runner up to
this. For those fortunate enough to have living mothers, find a way to
honor her that would make Anna Jarvis proud.

Anna Jarvis died in 1948 at age 84. Ironically, she never had children
of her own.

Sadly, not all children have had nurturing mothers during their growing
up years. Some children may have even felt unloved. All parents have
lost their cool at one time or another and fallen short of what God
intended them to be.  However, He gave us the parents we received for a
reason. And from those parents, we can become, with His help, the best
we can be.

?©Kay Seefeldt
5/6/05

Kay??™s mother Ola Woodward has been deceased twenty five year in June.
She is most thankful for the wonderful mother God provided her. She
appreciates her mother??™s legacy of unconditional love, sense of humor,
and compassion for life more with each passing year.

Kay Seefeldt
Birdnest @ Megalink.net

  ~**~**~  

Mama's Soft Answer

by: James A. Henson

I remember enough things about Mama to fill a book; however, one particular incident had such a profound effect on my life that it changed the way I would think forever.  For me it really defined motherhood once and for all.

Mama had very little formal education??”she was born in 1894 to a poor farm family??”but at times one would never believe it.  On many occasions, I would have sworn that Mama had read all the child psychology books ever written.  It appeared??”to me, least??”that she had the credentials to solve any problem that might arise.  Consider the time that I had crossed one of her boundary-lines, and the moment arrived for my punishment.  Mama did not believe in ???sparing the rod.???  She knew that such practice would ???spoil the child.???  Well, she sent me out to the orchard to cut a switch that would be the major part of my ???punishment.???

Although I don??™t recall for sure just how old I was at this point, I thought I knew something about psychology myself.  I proceeded to cut a switch approximately the same diameter as my little finger.  A smile crossed my youthful face as I cut this instrument of corporal punishment.  I just knew that when I humbly placed this large limb into Mama??™s big hands, she would feel such sorrow for me that the planned whipping would no doubt dissolve into a huge hug.  Quickly the realization came that I had grossly miscalculated; Mama had not read the psychology books!

???Well son,??? Mama softly replied.  ???I see that you have cut a good one.???  She then made good use of that switch.  Needless to say, I never tried psychology on Mama again.

Mama was certainly a strict disciplinarian, but on every occasion that correction was necessary, she always softly explained why the punishment was being meted out.  Once it was over, two loving arms enfolded me in a web of love. 

As I grew into my teen years, Mama??™s soft loving voice always gave me the same basic advice: ???Son, stay out of dangerous places.  Son, be careful of the company you keep.???  Today we talk of ???role-models??? and worry about who is influencing our children.  My role model was Mama!  She always lived a life before me that was above reproach in all areas.  Mama spoke to me of things like, reputation, respect, honor and integrity; those were her bywords.  She simply wanted her son to be a good citizen and a positive influence for others.

Many times I recall her words of caution: ???Remember, someone is watching your life.  You are either leading them on the right path or you are leading them astray!???

I heard her words of guidance, caution and advice every day during my growing-up years.  As I entered my early twenties, Mama??™s admonitions began to fall on deaf ears; after all, I was now 23 years old, and I knew enough to make my way through the every day world.  I began to actually resent Mama??™s efforts to protect me from the slings and arrows of a grown-up world.  Each time I would leave the house to be with friends, or to attend some function, it was always the same line: ???Son, please stay out of dangerous places.??? 

I began to take all of Mama??™s concerns as nagging.  I simply felt that I was too old to be bothered with all of her little ???sayings.???  She seemed to have one for every occasion.  Since I was now past twenty-one, I was a grown man and should not have to listen to Mama??™s worries constantly.  After all, I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself.  The whole situation came to a head one evening when I was leaving for a night out with friends.

Mama had begun one of her little statements??” probably something about being careful.  At this point I had heard enough.  I whirled around and spoke harshly to my beloved Mama.  ???When are you going to stop worrying about me,??? I demanded in a voice much too loud.  That gentle lady??™s answer stopped me in my tracks!

???When I??™m gone,??? was her soft, gentle and loving reply. 

She didn??™t pause to consider what answer to give to my very thoughtless, stupid question.  Once again Mama had the correct answer for a son who, until this moment, simply did not realize all the loving ingredients that God poured into Mothers!

The scripture states:  A soft answer turns away wrath??¦ Proverbs 15:1 (RSV).

Well, my wrath was not only turned away, it was melted!  Never again would I ask Mama that question.  That night, at age 23, I came to realize what it meant to have a real mother??”a mother who genuinely cared about her child!  

With her simple, yet powerful answer, she was saying to me: ???Son, you will never grow so old or so tall that I will not worry about you.  Perhaps someday you will understand what it means to be a parent.??? 

The years have visited me with aches, pains and eyes that cannot see clearly anymore, but through them all I have thanked God countless times for Mama.  I came to realize very early that I had one of the real treasures in life.  It was not locked away in some bank??™s safe deposit box; it did not include houses and land.  It was not any possession that can be purchased on EBay.  God had given me the most valuable gift that any person can have; he gave me Mama!

Many of Mama??™s ???sayings??? have been passed on to my two daughters during their young lives.  Like Mama, at times I caught a quick glance of at least one of them rolling their eyes as I cautioned, ???Honey, please stay out of dangerous places.???

?© 2005

jahenson13@aol.com

 ~**~**~  

My Mother

Dianna Doles Petry

She never completed school. She made it to the tenth grade but didn't complete the year. There was work to be done at home for the family and so she gave up her studies to help out there. She took a job at a local Five & Dime and soon had the busiest candy counter in town, not for the fudge she cut into little blocks and sold, but for her winning smile and her sense of humor. She made everyone who came to her counter feel good about themselves.

She married at the age of twenty-one and the next year, gave birth to her first child. Two more children followed in quick succession and then, she was left stranded by the husband she trusted and depended on to provide for her and the little ones. He left her in a coal company house that was in demand by working miners and within two weeks, she was given an eviction notice. She lived through the shame of having to go back to her parents and then later, the pain of having her three young children stolen from her and taken away to another state before a judge could make a custody ruling during a bitter divorce.

She survived a remarriage and giving birth to two more children. She cried through holidays when she thought no one could hear and she hugged us a little bit tighter sometimes when it was one of the other children's birthdays. She survived losing her parents and siblings and her spouse to death and still, somehow, she managed to find humor in small things. She laughed and she made others around her laugh.

Now, at almost 81 years old, she suffers from dementia and assorted health problems that keep her sleeping most of the time and have robbed her of the ability to enjoy life. But still, there are times when something makes her think and she comes alive. The sparkle reappears in her eyes and she grins or smiles when she knows she has made someone else laugh. Those times make up for all the times that she is lost in her own world.

I have found certain things that trigger my mother's mind. Touching her while I talk to her seems to calm her and helps her to focus. Keeping a steady tone of voice helps while speaking sharply to her quickly turns her facial expression to one of apprehension or fear. The biggest trigger however, is laughter.

During a recent visit from a friend, my mother came alive. She felt very comfortable with the visitors and she quickly caught onto all of us sitting around the table laughing. She tried hard to think up jokes to tell them and she would come into the room and quickly let them know what was on her mind. If they laughed, she would say, "Well, I just thought of that and wanted to come and tell you."

She is childlike in many ways, she just loves to be silly and she hasn't thought about any real problems for quite a while. She has no concept of money or bills, she no longer scans the obituaries looking for names she recognizes and she has no desire to look past today. There are times when she is prissy and times when she is sure that her stuffed dog is doing tricks or that someone is talking to her that we don't see.....When I think about it, maybe she is in the best place a person could ever be. I waste moments of my life worrying about being late with a utility payment, who is divorcing and who is ill and I am forever trying to make sure that the future is taken care of.........while I'm too busy to enjoy today.

Today, I lied to my mother, not a serious lie, but a lie. I do it a lot in fact, because they are lies that comfort her or let her be content. Instead of saying, "I'm leaving for five hours and my brother will look in on you," I simply say, "I'm going outside to find something I dropped." She has no concept of time but she can handle the idea of me being gone for minutes while the thought of me being gone for longer makes her feel frightened and nervous.

While my mother still recognizes me, her world has gradually ebbed away from today and now revolves more around yesterday. She doesn't know when she ate last or old how the grandchildren are but if you ask her about the principal of the Junior High she attended, she can describe him in great detail. She sometimes asks questions I have no way of answering but I have learned that rather than saying, "I don't know," I can answer with "I think he moved to California, or I heard she became a teacher." She will nod in satisfaction and it's over. But I do have to be careful.

Dementia is a strange mental illness. She is confused and for the most part, realizes that she is confused. She will ask the same questions over and over again but there are times when she catches her mistakes and occasionally, even mine. Those are the times when just for a brief moment, I am once again the child and she is once again my parent. Most of the time however, those roles have become reversed.

I don't understand the people who put parents in nursing homes and then never go to see them. I know that not all parents were good parents but in my case, I wouldn't leave my kids at a day care and not go back and I can't do that with my mother either.

So, I will continue to find ways to make her laugh! I will try to trigger those moments when her eyes sparkle and her feet tap to music. I will do whatever it takes to make sure she always feels loved and cared for.

Dianna Doles Petry

Dianna59 @charter.net

 ~**~**~  

MOTHER

Dianna Doles Petry

I look at her now and wonder if she ever felt the things that I feel deep inside of me at this point in my life. It is hard to imagine her being young and playful, dancing to music or longing for the touch of a lover. Photographs show her cradling me as an infant yet now there is such a harshness to her that it seems unreal that she could have loved me in a soft and caring way.

Her days have become routine much like an airplane on automatic pilot. The course is set and the body follows it. She comes down the staircase each morning carrying a little plastic bag with a few items that she needs to keep track of at all times. There are photos with frayed edges and small toys that were cast away by the children that mean something special to her. There are clippings of actors and actresses that would mean nothing to us yet they fill a spot of need in her. Always there is the candy, from M&M??™s to Hershey??™s kisses, that she nibbles on throughout the day all the while thinking that I don??™t know it exists. I say nothing for it is a simple pleasure that she deserves.

Her favorite spot is the same cushion, on the same sofa, day after day. There is no variation and no one else dares to sit there when she is up and alert. From this little corner of her world she can see the front door as well as the path that leads through the house. She is content when she knows she is not alone and being able to see the household activity brings her some relief.

The television in that room has only a few channels that ever get used. She has no desire to seek out new entertainment and knows exactly what channels run her favorite shows and the times that they air. I watch her as she takes such interest in a show that she has seen several times. In her mind, each time she sees it is like the first time. Heaven help her if they ever stop showing the episodes of "Walker: Texas Ranger!" On second thought, heaven help me, I will be the one that has to explain why it isn??™t there anymore and feel guilty that I can??™t fix the problem!

I remember a time when she would go dancing with my father. At times her jealously overtook her reasoning and she was sure that all the other women in town were waiting for her to disappear so that they might have a chance with him. Now, except for the batteries dying in the remote control or a soap opera being canceled nothing fazes her. Her favorite part of the newspaper is the obituaries. She is saddened that someone else passed but also feels like she is winning a race. She has outlived yet another person??¦if that makes any sense!

She complains about the various body parts that ache, partly to inform us and partly to gain our full attention for awhile. I study her for any possible resemblance to myself and I smile when I don't find any. In all honesty though, I find myself turning into her a little at a time each day. All of the things that I hated as a child I now say and do myself! Is there hope for me?

The grandchildren come into a room with her and she makes them laugh, at least for awhile. She loves their company until the soap operas start anyway, then she wants to be alone and lose herself in the drama on television. I have to admit that the times when she allows herself to drift backwards into the past bring the children great joy!

Take the story of the medicine ball for example. Anyone that has heard this story gets lost in laughter. As she tells the story, her face comes alive with expression and she relives the whole episode in her mind. Even though I have heard it a thousand times, I listen again because for the time she tells it, she is alive again in the fullest sense of the word.

My grandfather, her father, had been drinking on a Saturday afternoon and had no intention of having my grandmother find out. He had gone to sleep it off in his bedroom. My mother and her sister were supposed to do the dishes while their mother and another of the sisters was getting coal from the coalhouse.

My mother was always one to get out of her chores one way or the other. Her sisters still insist that she was always playing practical jokes or teasing someone to the point of anger while she was supposed to be working. Since the rules of the house where that no one did anything or went anywhere until the work was done, the other girls would pick up her slack so that they could get done. This day was no different!

While her sister was washing the dishes, my mother, having decided that my grandfather shouldn??™t be sleeping while SHE had to work, found something to keep him from sleeping! She saw a ball, a "medicine ball" she calls it, and decided that she would toss it to make a loud sound in the hopes of tormenting her father! I am assuming from the description that she offers that is ball is what we refer to as a "cageball." It was very large and covered in cloth. She holds out her arms here to show us just how large it was. By this time she is already starting to laugh at herself as she recalls the details in her mind.

There was no door to the bedroom that my grandfather was sleeping in at that time. Since the room was right directly off of the kitchen she slipped over to the door with the ball and tossed it in. At nearly the same time she was throwing the ball, she was turning around to get back to the sink so she wouldn't get caught!

Little did she know that the ball would hit my grandfather smack on the nose! With one yell and a leap from the bed he came roaring out of the bedroom. My mother, now standing innocently by the sink with her sister who had been busy doing both their chores, looked up as if in total shock! My grandfather demanded to know "Who threw that ball?"

My mother, always the player, looked at her sister Garnet, and said, "Daddy, what are you talking about? What ball?" She was as cool as iced tea on a summer day!

"Garnet, did you see anybody in here?" my mother asked innocently.

"Daddy, it couldn't have been us, we were doing the dishes." Her sister, looking at her with dismay, said, "No, Louise, I didn't see anybody ELSE in here." Garnet was not about to see her sister slaughtered right there in the kitchen, it would have been another big mess to clean and she wanted to get out of there!

Without another word, my grandfather went to the back porch and starting calling out to my grandmother and the other children. They came immediately, thinking that by the sound of his voice the house must be on fire! One by one he interrogated them like a detective in a cheap mystery movie! The only things missing were the bright lights and dripping water. None of them could figure out what could have happened but my grandmother kept on eyes on my mother.

My grandfather ordered them all to stand there until somebody came clean about what caused his nose to be so purple and twice it??™s normal size. My grandmother, although upset that no one was confessing, was actually smiling a little on the inside. She knew that my grandfather would be around the house for the next several days because he was much to vain to go out looking like that! After all, this was the same man that had tried shoe polish on his hair to hide the gray that was appearing!

My mother stood there the whole time knowing all along that she was guilty. I have often thought about that and how she could be so cool. I feel guilty when I hear about something someone else did. Anyway, she never did confess and it took months for him to get over that. I am sure there were very few afternoon naps anymore too!

Another of her stories is the one about her first boyfriend! He became her boyfriend by mistake actually. She was from a large family, eight daughters and only one son. The older girls helped with the younger ones and none of the girls were allowed to walk around the community unattended. If one of them went out, even to church, there were several of them to go.

One evening, while a group of them were walking out of the hollow to the nearest little town for church, a young man asked his friend what the girl's name was that was wearing the red dress. The problem was that my mother and her sister Mary were both wearing red dresses. The young man furnishing the information didn't think of that and told his friend, "Louise".

The next day, the young man showed up on my grandmother's porch with a cucumber and a tomato in his hands, asking to speak with Louise. My grandmother, giggling as she found my mother, relayed the message that she had a caller. She came outside immediately to find her new beau, standing there with vegetables in hand expecting the other sister. In her excitement, she failed to see the startled look on his face and he couldn't or wouldn't hurt my mother's feelings so he handed her the "gifts" he had meant to give to her sister. He must have liked her smile and she was quite chatty so he asked if he could walk her to school the next day. She was thrilled and said yes, so off he went thinking that maybe this wasn't so bad after all. She went inside to gloat to her sisters that SHE had a boyfriend! I??™m not sure I would have gotten that excited over vegetables myself??¦I could make my own salad!

The next morning, he showed up for the walk to school. They seemed to hit it off well and spent a lot of time together over the next few weeks. She liked having him around because he helped with the chores that she was supposed to do. Instead of her working in the garden, she would sit on a rock or a tree stump and tell him silly jokes while he did the hoeing and the cultivating! They laughed and grinned all the way to the little two-room school house everyday.

Finally, the time came when he told her of his plans to get a car. He would be able to take her on "a proper date," he said. She was really feeling like the princess that was about to get reign over the kingdom! She told him how much she would like being able to go out and see a drive in movie or just take a ride. Keep in mind this was about 1939. He walked her home again that evening, and escorted her to church later and both of them were excited at the prospect of being able to be seen in an automobile!

When church was over he walked her home again. I am sure that all the walking kept people slim back then. From London, WV, to Hugheston, WV, is about one mile, add another 3/4 of a mile up the hollow to the house for the complete trip, and he did this four times in one day! Maybe she really did look good all fixed up! When they reached her house after church, they stood at the front gate, just talking she says, when my grandfather turned on a huge light and shouted, "It's bedtime around here, she don't want what you're offering tonight."

If that had been me, I would have been to embarrassed to show my face again, but not my mother, she yelled back, "If you were in there tending to mother, you wouldn't have time to watch young people!" They made a date for the next evening, and the young man left!

The next day my mother sat by a window anxiously awaiting the young man??™s arrival. She knew that his father had taken him that morning to purchase this wonderful automobile that he had talked about so much. It wasn??™t brand new, he had told her but it was really nice and it would belong to him! She had pictured herself in this car many times, being the envy of her sisters because few young men could afford cars of their own at that time! She couldn??™t wait to make the trip to Montgomery in the car, she was always in the back seat of my grandfather??™s car and she would be in the front seat this time and highly visible! Her chest was bursting with pride and anticipation??¦until she saw him pull in! She felt her heart start to beat wildly and she knew she could not step foot in that car!

You see, the young man had purchased a used hearse! It was a huge black station wagon and the funeral home emblem was still visible on the sides even though there had been an obvious attempt to remove it. There was no way my mother was going to be seen in that car! She made a mad dash to my grandmother and informed her that she was very ill, she could not possibly go out with anyone. My grandmother knew there was more to the story but went to the front door to greet the young man and tell him that my mother was ill. As she spotted the car sitting out there she immediately knew what had caused the sudden illness!

That romance was over the minute he pulled up in front of the house. I don??™t know if he ever came back or what she might have said to him in school but I know that she never got into that car. I have no idea of whether or not he finally got the right sister, I was almost afraid to ask. Let me just say, I am glad that I never had vegetable bearing suitors, roses smell much nicer and chocolate is always comforting!

By the time she has finished telling the children her story it is time for her favorite soap, "All my Children," and she sends the children scampering to another part of the house. For the next few hours she watches the action on the television, stopping only long enough to go to the restroom or get a snack. She is comfortable in her favorite spot.

I watch her at times when she doesn??™t know that I??™m there. She is eager for attention but on her terms. She is demanding but only about simple things, she must have her favorite coffee cup and her own newspaper. She listens to country music and sometimes I could swear I see her tapping her feet in rhythm to the music. She refuses to dress up and her hair is combed but simple.

I wonder how she reached this point in her life. How did she go from dancing and laughing to growing older and needing soap operas to add excitement to her life? What is worse, is that I look into the mirror everyday for the signs that would tell me that I am becoming intermingled with her. I refuse to give in without a fight though! Hey, come back here with my remote...

?©2002

Dianna Doles Petry

Dianna59 @charter.net

Today, even more of my mother's thoughts are clouded. She no longer watches the soap operas and she gave up her collection in the bag she carried around from room to room. She is now eighty-two years old and her life revolves around eating, taking medication and sleeping. She still recognizes her family but carrying on a conversation with her is a thing of the past. Dementia is a cruel disease that affects not only the victim but also everyone who is associated with the victim.

Dianna Doles Petry

4/2005

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