MOTHER’S DAY MEMORIES
by Nancy Gideon
My favorite memory of Mother’s Day was in 1983. I was pregnant with my first son and at that moment, the fact of motherhood (other than the already swelling feet) made a unique impression upon me. It got me thinking about what kind of mom I’d be and the things that I’d learned from my own that I wanted to pass on.
My mom was my hero. She was 41 when I was born (as if that wasn’t enough to denote hero status!). Many mistook her for my grandmother. She was the middle child of five living in Florida and would amaze us in telling stories of how she was terrified of the gas mask that her neighbor’s son brought home from WWI, of her grandmother shaking her bible from the front porch at Babe Ruth who rented the house across the street during spring training, of living in a pre-civil Rights South, and of her brothers delivering newspapers to Thomas Edison and Henry Ford (both of whom signed their diplomas). Stories about bravely traveling alone to New England to go to nursing school to become an occupational therapist, of reading my dad’s redacted letters from the Philippines where he was in the medical corp during WW II. Of being a busy stay at home mom who sewed our clothes, pressed our sheets and curtains in a mangle and canned from our garden until I was the last to start kindergarten. Then she returned to OT part time, saving money to give her three girls the one thing she felt was more important than anything else: higher education. My mom was filled with nearly a century of history, but her eye was always on the future. Except for Star Trek. She never got Star Trek.
I knew I wanted to be a writer from the time I was in grade school and my mom always supported that dream. The one time she stood firm was when I graduated high school. I was working and didn’t see the need for college – I was going to be a writer, after all. She told me flatly, get your education first then you can be anything you want to be. Knowledge was something never wasted. It opened doors for her and she wanted me to have unlimited opportunities, too. Every time I sit down to plot or edit or research, I’m thankful for that line she drew. She was my biggest fan when it came to my books. And I’m still hers. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!
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