I hesitated to write this column with a focus on Mother’s Day. Was there really any need to salute moms or urge others to do the same?
Certainly not — if money is any indication. According to the National Retail Federation, nationwide expenditures for Mother’s Day of 2017 are expected to reach $21.2 billion. Wow, that’s a mountain of jewelry, flowers, restaurant meals and Hallmark cards.
But then a few clicks of my mouse pad reminded me that there can be a gap between the wallet and the heart. An entry in Wikipedia said that a woman named Anna Jarvis began campaigning for the establishment of a national “Mother’s Day” in 1905 and that her goal was realized with a 1914 proclamation by President Woodrow Wilson. However, by the early 1920s, Jarvis was organizing boycotts and threatening lawsuits against companies because she felt the holiday had become too commercialized. Jarvis desperately wanted people to honor their moms through simple expressions of love and appreciation.
Okay, please no hand grenades from Hallmark or fusillades from FTD. I’m not against the giving of tangible gifts on Mother’s Day. But I wonder how many of us hide behind “stuff” because we’re uncomfortable in sharing our hearts. Especially those of us who grew up with the constraints of Pennsylvania German culture.
As for me, I really have no excuse for the times I failed to verbalize appreciation to my mother. I was just shy of eight-years-old when I saw undeniable evidence of her love for me.
PITTSBURGH PIRATE MEMORY
The scene was Forbes Field, home of the Pittsburgh Pirates. The year was 1960, a baseball season that ended with the Pirates’ unforgettable World Series triumph over the Yankees. The day was Saturday, Aug. 6, and the Pirates were playing the powerful San Francisco Giants. Dad and Mom took me to the game — my eighth birthday followed one week later — while my teenage brother spent the day kayaking.
The three of us were so excited as we worked our way through the crowd and into the stadium, until we found our ticketed seats. There, right in front of us, was a vertical steel beam. I’m sure it was needed to support the roof, but it completely blocked the view from one of our three spots. So who do you suppose volunteered to sit in that seat? Yep, Mom. I’ll never forget the cheerful way that she plopped herself down behind that beam, smiling broadly because Dad and I would get to see our beloved Pirates.
That one action left a lifelong impression on me. Sure, Mom sacrificed in many other ways over the years, like the times she toiled on an old-fashioned typewriter until the wee hours of the morning to help me produce high school term papers. But nothing ever spoke as loudly to me as that experience at Forbes Field. Baseball was my boyhood passion, so her sacrifice was unforgettable. There she sat, happily trapped behind a steel beam while I watched Dick Groat and Roberto Clemente battle rookie pitcher Juan Marichal in the heart of a pennant race.
“Wow,” I thought, “Mom really must love me.” Yes, she did. Mary Lou Horlacher certainly wasn’t perfect — no more than any other mother — but she often sacrificed greatly for my welfare. And because she passed away in December of 2010 at the age of 89, I no longer have the privilege of expressing my gratitude to her.
MAKING EVERYTHING WORK
But I still get to watch other mothers display an almost superhuman willingness to put their kids first. It’s an awesome thing to see a nurturing mom at work. Sure, dads love their kids and many are extremely committed to the serious work of parenting. But I love to tell my buddies that “we all married up,” and I rarely get an argument in response. Most of my friends readily admit that moms are one of God’s most remarkable creations.
My wife of 40 years, Kathy, gets a bit squeamish whenever she is mentioned in my columns. But hey, truth is truth, and I can’t discuss the beauty of self-sacrificial motherhood without tipping my hat to her. Even today, with our three sons ranging in age from 29 to 35, all of them would echo my words. Their mom was always there for them — and still is — regardless of the cost.
Kathy was the one who made everything work in our family. She provided most of the hugs and kisses, the story reading, the bedtime prayers. She treated all of the skinned knees and childhood bugs and surely deserved an M.D. after raising three kids. She navigated the crowded roads of suburban D.C. to get the boys to various events and to school. And when one forgot a lunch or a text book, she was the one to scoop up the forgotten item and travel back to the school. I’m sure she rolled her eyes on a daily basis, but she rarely complained.
Kathy could have bemoaned her lack of a little girl, but instead she immersed herself in the world of boys’ athletics. For our family, that meant baseball, soccer, lacrosse and wrestling. No wonder Kathy was so helpful when we took five international students to a Penn State wrestling match. One bout ended in an apparent draw, yet the Nittany Lion wrestler was declared the victor. I made my way to the end of the row to explain things to a Chinese friend who was sitting beside Kathy. “Oh, I already understand,” he said. “Kathy told me all about riding time.”
A BRAND NEW MOM
Just within the last three weeks, we have beheld the transition to motherhood of our dear daughter-in-law. Our oldest son, Matt, and his wife, Jenna, greeted their first children on April 20. Yes, Jenna gave birth to twins — a boy named “Beau” and a girl named “June” — and immediately faced the herculean challenge of feeding two newborns.
No doubt, there’s some extra fun and drama that results from having twins. But it looks to me like there’s also a fair share of drudgery. During these early weeks, the Horlacher twins have required eight feedings per day. When you figure that the nursing and bottle combination takes roughly 90 minutes for two little ones, you realize how much time is needed, and how much sleep is forsaken. And then there’s the laundry and the diaper changing.
But Jenna, like so many other wonderful moms, is clearly enthralled by her babies and thrilled by the privilege of motherhood. It touches something deep in my heart when I see her holding them and singing them some of the same sweet songs that Kathy sang so many years ago.
Jenna Horlacher holds June while husband, Matt, holds twin brother Beau.
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So what about the idea I mentioned earlier? The notion that many Americans send “stuff” to their mothers because they’re somehow unwilling or unable to share gratitude from the depths of their hearts. I’ve thought about this a lot in recent years, ever since my mom passed away. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to offer three suggestions for affirming mothers. Two are timeless and happy; the third is unique to this year and very sobering.
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By all means, go ahead with any purchase you have already made or planned. Mom deserves whatever you plan to give her. But please don’t let your gesture end with a tangible gift. Attach a card with a handwritten note that expresses your appreciation. And see if you can go beyond a generality (“You were the most loving mother I have ever known”) to a particular memory (“I’ll never forget the untiring love you showed me when I felt so rejected in high school”).
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Try to spend some extra time with Mom on Sunday or soon thereafter. Earlier this week, I saw this Facebook cut-and-paste from a friend in California who is a wonderful mother and grandmother. “Every year (well, maybe not every year) my children ask me the same question. After thinking about it, I decided I’d give them my real answer: What do I want for Mother’s Day? I want you. I want you to keep coming around, I want you to bring your kids around, I want you to ask me questions, ask my advice, tell me your problems, ask for my opinion, ask for my help. I want you to come over and rant about your problems, rant about life, whatever. Tell me about your job, your worries, your kids, your fur babies. I want you to continue sharing your life with me. Come over and laugh with me, or laugh at me, I don’t care. Hearing you laugh is music to me. I spent the better part of my life raising you the best way I knew how. Now, give me time to sit back and admire my work.“
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If you believe in prayer, please spend time this weekend in asking God to comfort Evelyn Piazza, mother of the student who died following what has been described as a horrific hazing experience at a Penn State fraternity in early February. I can hardly imagine the heartache she has felt during the last few months. Mother’s Day may add another dimension to her grief. Ask the Lord to surround Mrs. Piazza with His grace and allow her to draw strength from her family.
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I would love to hear your ideas for making this year’s Mother’s Day as meaningful as possible for your Mom or for the mother of your children. As for our celebration, I know our boys will remember their Mom in some very appropriate ways. Meanwhile, I will take her out for dinner on Saturday night and then, on Sunday, we’ll go to church before attending the 2 p.m. Centre County Baseball League game between the Pleasant Gap Peppers and the Spike Island (Philipsburg) Pirates.
Don’t worry, I’m not dragging Kathy to a ball game on Mother’s Day. She wants to go. After all, her son is a pitcher for the Peppers, so of course, she wants to see him play. And I’ve promised her that there are no steel beams in Philipsburg to obstruct her view.
New mother Jenna Horlacher admires her little girl, June.
