Friday, May 08, 2009
A gift basket of musings for Mother's Day
Some of the girls in Will and Mary Powers' family: First row: Mariel P. Fuhrman, Mikaila Reynolds, Megan P. Reuter. Second row: Meris Powers, Mirinda P. Reynolds. —Courtesy of the Powers family
Emily Paine Carter is columnist So Salem. You can contact her at 981-3430 or via e-mail.
Emily Paine Carter
Recent columns from Salem, Glenvar and western Roanoke County
Mothers' Day! Time for another fearless column. So, some free-range thoughts:
We were delighted to chat with Mirinda Powers Reynolds at Mary Crockett Hill's recent -- and excellent -- poetry reading.
Lovely Mirinda had extended her visit with parents Will and Mary Powers to attend her dear friend's event. Despite Mirinda's busy art-teaching schedule -- plus two kids and a studio -- she comes in frequently from Fredericksburg, reported mom Mary.
Mary also caught me up on her other fine daughters: Meris (moving soon to Texas), Roanoker Mariel and Megan. Megan and her husband -- both M.D.s -- just returned to Virginia from Los Angeles and are expecting twins. Yikes, indeed.
Mirinda recalled her first experience babysitting my kids: "I cooked spaghetti. They said that to test its doneness, toss some on the ceiling to see if it sticks."
(Unlike My-True-Words-of-Wisdom, why did my joking pasta-trick "stick" with the kids?)
Taking it to the max -- of course -- the two threw a mighty clump upwards. (When we moved from that house, I discovered pasta still clinging to the top of the ceiling fan. And yes, it was quite done.)
"I had kids anyhow," Mirinda laughed.
See, just like Samuel Johnson's line about second marriages -- "the triumph of Hope over Experience" -- babysitters go on to have kids anyhow, and mothers birth second children.
(Note to our other babysitters Brian and Lauren Oetgen, Mary White -- and even Barbara Preas and Susan Hackman who "sat" ME: thanks, apologies and hopes that you recovered.)
"If you have never been hated by your child, you have never been a parent" -- Bette Davis.
"You never realize how much your mother loves you till you explore the attic -- and find every letter you ever sent her, every finger painting, clay pot, bead necklace, Easter chicken, cardboard Santa Claus, paperlace Mother's Day card and school report since day one" -- Pam Brown. (I call my displayed treasures and photos "shrines.")
Sometimes I'm blessed to receive parental "gifts" on days other than this calendar-mandated Moms' Day. Daughter Caroline or son Erik will call or e-mail a thank-you for one thing "done right" in their rearing.
Like, they've thanked me for dragging them to plays and concerts.
And -- get this -- recently Caroline said she appreciated learning to attend funerals. (Typical dialogue: "I didn't really know __'s grandfather!" "Yeah, but you go to support your friend.")
I'm grateful for such virtual hugs. Hooray for when we've lived long enough to receive them!
"The story of a mother's life: trapped between a scream and a hug" -- cartoonist Cathy Guisewite.
So to moms -- and to all conscientious caregivers -- caught twixt screams and hugs: HAPPY MOTHERS' DAY! Courage! May you live long enough to hear a thank-you.
