The “Mommy” Connection

It’s an incredibly strong bond, that of a mother and child.  Unbreakable. Amazing.  Truly remarkable.

Having this little life grow, develop inside of you, is well, nothing short of a miracle!

I was there for the conception, pregnancy and yes, even the birth of my son.  I cut his umbilical cord.  His grandma, Alice, almost got stuck in the room.  She was over by the window, rosary beads in hand, reciting the rosary when the call went out for, “All hands on deck!”

The equipment started rolling in and Grandma Alice slipped quietly out into the hallway.

I remember we were watching Wheel Of Fortune, and the puzzle was (I kid you not!) 

“ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE”.  Rather fitting.

But, I digress.

The Mother/Child bond is an amazing thing, one that fathers, try as they may, will simply never achieve.  The best we fathers can hope for is a loving friendship with our children once they become adults. 

Until then we love them, guide them, nurture them, hold their hands walking down the street and in crosswalks, remind them to eat their vegetables, and wash behind their ears.  (Moms are usually the ones who remind us to always have on clean underwear!)

My own parents divorced when I was very young, about 6 years old.  My father had some personal issues (“indiscretions” we would call them nowadays), and he wanted out of his marriage so bad that he not only moved across town, he moved to another state.

My mother remarried rather quickly, within 2 years, and our stepfather took us in, and accepted us as though we’d been family all along.  He provided us with a nice, modest home ( a ranch-style house on 2 acres of old growth timber) and just generally a wonderful, wonderful life.

My brothers, aunts, uncles and cousins, grandparents and I lost our beloved friend, sister, daughter and mother early in 1977 to lung cancer, just shy of her 45^th birthday.

40 years ago this year was our last Christmas with her.  Every year at this time it gets harder and harder.  So many hopes, joys, laughs, tears, good times and bad that we’ve all wanted to share with her that we haven’t been able to.

She, mother, Mom, brings us into this world, shows us unconditional love, hope, encouragement, a guiding hand, a warm embrace and that gentle little nudge forward out of the nest.

Author, on left; my Mother, Barbara; younger brother, Dan, 

and older brother, Barney, far right.

Happiness Is A Warm Blanket... And My Smartphone.

 It seems as though we just can’t leave our homes without this particular security blanket. 

Some folks even go as far as to say that they can’t “survive” without it.  How did we get to this place?  And how do we get back home?

Oh sure, they’re handy little devices for helping us form some sort of order out of the chaos that is our lives, but really, how did we get to this place?

Many young people have isolated themselves to the point where they can’t talk to strangers on the bus, or the commuter train without their Smartphone in their hands.  Why is that?  Well, it’s simple, really.  They require some sort of security, something that makes them feel safe. 

Has the world really gotten that bad?   Well, yes, in some areas it has. 

It saddens me greatly when I see young people in their 20s and 30s standing together in a group of what appears to be their friends, and they’re all looking down at their devices.  Not talking, not sharing a laugh, not enjoying the blue sky, the flowers, the trees, nope, none of that. 

What are they doing?  Punching the keys and internal keyboards and number pads of their devices, send text messages to one another.  Not a word, not a sound uttered.

And again, how did we get to this point?  Mommy and Daddy never, not once talked to these kids when the kids were very young, therefore, the kids (now adults, well, in theory) don’t know how to talk to other adults.  It’s that simple. 

Does a finger need to be pointed?  Yes, in fact, it does.  If a young person has earbuds in his ears and a smartphone in his hands, that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s multitasking and listening to music and texting at the same time.  Usually, it means he doesn’t want to talk to anyone, but rather just text his friends.  Mindless?  Well, yes, obviously.

Why not put the smartphone down at talk?  Because it means interaction with another, unknown adult, the ones that Mommy and Daddy told him not to talk to.  Again, big mistake.  Is this true 100% of the time for 100% of the young people? No, only 95%.

See, when he was very young, his Mommy and Daddy wanted to bring him up “right”, not the way they were raised.  That means, Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t allow him or make him do anything he didn’t want to do because they didn’t want to deal with tantrums, crying, sobbing, cleaning under his fingernails if he happened to get in the mud, and so on.  Therefore, Junior didn’t really get to be a kid and live.  Hmm, do you see a pattern here??

I don’t own a smartphone; never have, and never will.  That’s by my own design.

Is it too late for this generation?  No, there’s still hope, but they need to retrain themselves to actually put down their devices and make an effort to engage other adults.

Are the devices to blame?  No, the kids just need to use some discretion, some self-restraint, some will-power.  Otherwise, the next generation will be born completely mute and be unable to talk.  Well, maybe not the next generation, but it will happen in time.

So, yes, the next time you leave the safe, comfort of your home, your domain, your boy- or girl-cave, rethink leaving your smartphone at home and taking one small step.  I promise you the world will continue to revolve around the sun, and rotate on its axis.  (It’s a science-y term.  Google it!)

Mommy Did Say They'd Be Home By Midnight...

When they said good-bye, I whimpered.  My head dropped down, and I could feel a lump in my throat.

So many questions:

            Where were they going?

            How long would they be gone?

            Will I be here all by myself?

Oh, sure, I had the run of the house.  Lots of newspaper to read before doing my “business”, as they called it.

They’d left my toys as well: 

            The cat doll with only 2 legs still attached

            My squeaky newspaper, and

            My rawhide bones.

Ruff, Ruff!

            What was that???

Hmmph!  Nothing.

I circled the living room a few times, and then decided, *yawn*, it was probably time for a well deserved nap.

I mean after all, Mommy did say they’d be home by midnight.