A VALENTINE FOR MOM

Last week, five grandmothers were visiting. Their conversation turned to sons. Said Kitty, “For no reason my daughter will stop by with a coffee cake for me. My sons? They wouldn’t surprise me with a stamp. I’m the babysitter.”

Two others shook their heads in agreement. Rebecca commented, “My daughter-in-law is wearing mink. I’m in Filene’s basement wool, and it scratches. We’re not talking cashmere here.”

“A hamburger that’s all I ask,” said Winnie. “Meet me at McDonald’s once a month. Just talk, the two of us. Something else always comes up, I understand. That’s why I’m planning a two night wake on a week-end so he can make it.”

Through the complaints and sarcasm ran a thread, a fragile thread woven from loneliness and love that simply needed a shot in the arm, a little reaffirmation, or better yet a loving Valentine.

If you have a Mom then, Son, this column is for you. When was the last time you sent your Mom a valentine signed by YOU alone? Chances are pretty close to 99% your wife takes care of the Hallmark occasions, and signs your name. It’s rule No. 39 in the Book of Marriage.

This is not a rule, just life. The woman who labored 18 hours with you, promising God she’d hand build a cathedral if He’d just hurry things along, misses those years when you were hers alone. She may be getting old and showing up at the doctor’s for her dentist appointment, but she can still remember the 2 a.m. strolls when the softness of your breath on her neck felt like angels’ kisses. There were quiet nights of reading stories with you on her lap, and boisterous afternoons when she cheered at your games. Whether you needed a hug, a Band-Aid or a chocolate chip cookie, Mom was there.

She persevered through the teen years with speeding tickets, the Old Style “flu,” a problem or two, or perhaps a hundred and two, and loved you even more. You may not have known it then, but many a night as your long, lanky body slept she’d pull the quilt over you, and gently kiss your cheek. Now and then, tears fell when her lips kissed stubble.

She enjoyed making your favorite meals, buying you new clothes and shoes that had a life span of six months, chauffeuring and entertaining your friends with enough food to feed a platoon of Marines.

Instinctively she knew the time was coming when you’d walk out that door and life would never be the same. She was right. Military service, college, love, marriage, fatherhood, your career; all took possession of your wonderful life. You filled her heart with pride, gratitude, and inspiration, but most of all love.

O! Son, how your Mama loves you.

Cookies ‘n Chaos, is sponsored by:
Kuenster Funeral Home, 5570 W. 95th Street, Oak Lawn, IL. 60453
Family owned and operated since 1917
"Where respect and reverence enfold our families and friends."