Happy mother’s day

There are countless tributes to mothers today, as there should be.
And if you read Facebook, you know everybody thinks they have the best mom.
And that’s as it should be.
Too bad most of you are wrong.
For 10 of us, the Parlin clan, we really do have the best mom.
Think about it. Ten kids. And most of them aren’t as loving and caring and quiet and gentle as number four. (That would be me.)
OK, most of them are quieter.
But all of us know we have the best mom.
She came to adulthood in an age where most women didn’t work outside the home. They got married, had children, and raised the kids while the man of the house earned a salary.
And that’s what my mom did. She just did it like one of those Avengers superheroes.
Dad stretched a dollar as far as it would go and then mom cooked it up for 12 people squeezed around the table — the youngest in a high chair and the oldest getting ready to go off to college.
Her days were spent doing loads of laundry, and then more laundry, and then another load of laundry. And then she would peg diaper upon diaper on the clothesline. (Even if my environmentally conscious parents had been able to afford those new-fangled disposables, they wouldn’t have used them.)
She kept as clean a house as possible where the clutter-making kids outnumbered the one woman intent on cleaning up. While watching TV at night, we would all raise our legs like a badly rehearsed Rockettes kick line so mom could vacuum under and around us.
“I can’t hear.” we would yell, but she would just keep on cleaning.
In the mornings she made a big tub of oatmeal so we could start off the day with something warm to get us through to lunch.
And then there were the sick days. When chickenpox or mumps or measles hit one kid, down we all went one by one, with mom playing nursemaid and servant.
She herself never got sick. She didn’t have time to be sick. No paid sick days when the boss is a 5-year-old.
To this day, she doesn’t get sick much. A couple months ago, she complained of a cold and said she was going to rest that day. The next day when I talked to her she was already on the mend. Heck, my colds usually get a stranglehold on me for two weeks.
Recently, she’s had to have injections in her eye for macular degeneration. It is upsetting and unsettling and she hasn’t quite figured out how to accept it with grace yet. She prays a lot, suffers mostly in silence unless I ask the right question, and then goes on about her life.
So, yeah, the Parlins have the best mom — even though it would embarrass her to hear me say it.

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2 thoughts on “Happy mother’s day

  1. You’re right…everyone has the best mom. Your tribute — whether you like to call it that or not — brought back memories of my own Mom. So many sacrifices — along with Dad — to raise nine children. Then a grandson
    came to live with them during World War II, and they took in and helped raise two granddaughters following my sister’s failed marriage. Never once complaining. Their mantra? The more the merrier. You could just feel their love for family and community.

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