We never really made a big deal about Mother’s Day. Nina received the usual cards and magnificent artistic creations that our children made in school when they were younger. There was the usual “breakfast in bed” prepared for her at 7 a.m. as we all scurried around in the kitchen until we could wait no longer and brought it up to her bed at 8 o’clock. What a treat— cold toast and cold scrambled eggs. Yum!
As our children matured and got older, Mother’s Day became a day of a card (maybe) and a telephone call which they never missed regardless of where they were.
Last year, our first Mother’s Day in New Jersey a new phenomenon occurred. Everyone came over and surprised Nina with a Mother’s Day breakfast that she had not had for many years. This one was not dried out and soggy and included children and grandchildren and lots of excitement. It was great to look around the room and see our children with their children celebrating the present matriarch of the family. (That sounds so old.)
Today, while visiting Nina’s brother and sister-in-law in West Hempstead, we looked at pictures and reminisced about her parents. How handsome and young they were at one time. We realized how much more meaningful it is to look at a picture in an album than to display it on a phone or computer. The question that haunts us, though, is how long will it be before no one recognizes who the people in the pictures are?
One of the most amazing pictures that we looked at was one of Nina’s father visiting his parents in Berlin and standing next to what was then the latest model car at the time. Directly behind him on a storefront marquis was a swastika. We doubt that the picture was taken in order to subtly remind us of what was going in Germany. We reminisced and at times tried to imagine what our young mother and young father were thinking in these very lovely photos. Oddly, we realized that they were just like us. We as children never gave much thought to the dreamy looks parents showed toward each other. We didn’t comprehend the struggles that they experienced in their marriages as we often do today. Somehow, they were just always there for us. They probably did not run around taking us to baseball, hockey, karate, as well as the tons of therapies that every child seems to need today. Yet we grew up relatively okay despite our lack of extracurricular activities.
Our suggestion is that on Sunday, when we celebrate Mother’s Day, and several weeks later as Father’s Day rolls around, that we should give credit to our parents as well as remember those who gave us the opportunity to be around today. While growing up, we generally don’t have the maturity to realize what it takes to raise a family. As we get older and have the opportunity to do so, we can surely acknowledge the validity of putting aside a specific day to honor those we owe so much to.
By Rabbi Mordechai and Nina Glick
