Published May 13, 2007 in the Hibbing Daily Tribune
Some might name Mothers’ Day as just another Hallmark holiday like Valentine’s Day, Secretary Day, Boss Appreciation Day or Obscure Iron Range Newspaper Columnist Day (December 28th. By the way, if your intended gift doesn’t shoot bullets or contain grain-based alcohol, just send cash). But Mothers’ Day started as something much greater than a marketing ploy.
Diligent readers sent me a copy of the original declaration of Mothers’ Day by Julia Ward Howe from 1870. The holiday began as a solemn occasion for mothers to remember their sons and husbands lost in the Civil War and bring about peace.
Howe stated: “We women of one country will be too tender of those of another country to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs. From the bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with our own. It says "Disarm, Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice.
“Blood does not wipe our dishonor nor violence indicate possession. As men have often forsaken the plow and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel. Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.”
Somewhere between 1870 and last Thursday the whole Mothers’ Day thing went from world peace to ice cream cakes. Personally, I blame Nixon. (Though Michael Keller, Chief Brand Officer of Dairy Queen, surely bears some responsibility).
I will say this about motherhood, not that I’m an expert. It really doesn’t matter whether you embrace feminism, are deeply rooted in traditional family values or tie your kids to the camper hitch while you make a cigarette run: moms make it all happen.
I have a lot of people to thank today, all of whom answer to the name mom (something that becomes more confusing with each passing year). First, there’s mom. My mom has done day care for years, so saying she’s good with kids is a bit like saying an Olympic track star is good at jogging. She’s so good she went pro. She sewed the entire outfit I wore to my first day of school. She also hand decorated my 11th birthday cake with penguins molded out of frosting (before penguins were cool, might I add). Now she keeps my son plied with toy trains and books that make education seem as fun as sugar cubes and chocolate milk.
Then, there are the grandmas. They’ve always been important in my life, but especially now when they can effectively compare the childhood behavior of their kids, grandkids and great-grandkids to produce something close to scientific evidence of how kids think. For a rookie dad, that’s been helpful.
Then there’s the mom that I wake up to every day but that I don’t call mom because that’d be creepy. My wife Christina has given birth once, which I couldn’t do even if I had the parts, and now she’s expecting twins this summer. Since a “singleton” pregnancy (a word I’ve learned just recently) is challenging enough you might imagine how fun a twin pregnancy has been for her. Aches and pains aside, I could only endure a day or two of the “hey, mama” comments she receives from well-meaning friends and colleagues before I committed some variation of a felony. It might not get much easier when the twins are here, but what she’s survived so far is well worth an ice cream cake and national day of recognition.
Mothers’ Day may not be what it was in 1870. There may be some bewailing going on out there, but on the balance I expect a lot more ice cream cakes and home-cooked meals … ideally made by someone other than the mom(s). Thanks to all the moms that keep the world going.
Aaron J. Brown is a columnist for the Hibbing Daily Tribune.