Special Days

Ben, Matt, Becky, Sarah and Josh

Steve and I moved our family to Evanston the same summer as our fifth child, Rebeccah was born. About two years later, the social worker at Lincoln School, Ben Soltz, sent around a sheet asking anyone who wanted to join a mother's group to sign up. Eight of us joined and remained committed for years. I've come to think of that group as mothers mothering mothers. We were committed and rarely missed a Monday afternoon. Ben considered it his way of staying sane. I will be forever grateful for those years.

One year, the day after Mother's Day, we shared our individual celebrations with each other. I never considered the holiday terribly important. A day that any of my children helped with the dishes or cleaned up their rooms was a treat. Still in my bed, I could hear the children scampering about and shouted, "Bring me my presents!" And they came running with handmade goodies they'd produced at school. Wanting to hedge my bets, I had been reminding them the past week, "Don't forget! Mother's Day is Sunday."

A newcomer to the group said, "You shouldn't have to remind them. If you do, it doesn't count. My children forgot." She was, as I recall, still upset, angry with her husband for not doing more to support her, for not helping the children prepare something for her.

Remember, this was in the days when none of us worked outside the home. I realize that dates me but there was a time when this was possible. Fathers worked while mothers maintained the household. 

At any rate, my view was and still is, it's important to give children a fighting chance to do the right thing. Reminding them what is important to each of us provides an opportunity for them to mature into thoughtful, caring human beings. Whether it's children, husbands, wives, friends - each of us needs to send the message that we may be lonely, needing companionship, or wanting an afternoon outing. We can't read each other's minds. It's important to speak up and out so each of us feels cared for and loved.