Today, being Mother's Day, I can't help but be grateful I found Our Blessed Mother albeit late in life. I took a class on Mary on a lark several years ago from Sister Mary Ellen Doyle. She's so lively. I loved being around her. I started this out musing about our life's mothers, but knew I was also thinking of our Mary, too...the ultimate Mom. It just occurred to me, that, as Catholics, we have many "Mother's Days" that honor Our Lady. We should call them ALL Mother's Day.
I have felt lucky to be Catholic since the day I discovered Catholicism. I felt like I had come home. Maybe it's my Irish ancestry, although my Irish family was not part of the Church. My granddad died when I was too young to appreciate him. I would liked to have known him better, for a number of reasons, but especially because he was agnostic, and I don't understand that. He certainly had a hard life and worked alone to support a large family. He married my grandmother, I think, when she was 15. What makes someone agnostic? Had something terrible happened in his life that made him question God's existence? Did he come from a Catholic background? I do know he was a good man and that he loved me. I remember he would always say yes to me if I asked something of him...not to take advantage or anything like that, but just to build me up. I can't recall his voice. They called him "DD" for Daniel Dulaine Harper. My grandmother was not nearly so nice, and could cut you like a knife with words, a true opposite of Grandpa...but he was the agnostic and my grandmother was church-going. Go figure.
But, I honor her today, too, because she gave me my beloved Mom. I know that she truly shaped my mom, who had a job since she was 13 years old, worked a lifetime, and has now been retired a lifetime. My mom was a woman ahead of her time. When i was growing up, I always thought my friends felt sorry for me because my mom was working instead of being at home. But, my mom sacrificed a lot, and nothing was more important than our family. Any time away from work was wholly family's. When she took vacation, she spent two weeks every summer at home, not traveling to sightsee, but to just spend at home. She was religious about those two weeks, and we enjoyed a higher standard of living than kids I grew up with because Mom was out there, working in a man's world, doing her male boss' job instead of being promoted herself...long before women's equality in the workplace. She ran the computer room for payroll at Keesler Air Force Base, back when a computer filled a room, not sat on a desktop. She would get calls in the middle of the night to fix some problem while her boss slept all night. Everybody knew Mom was the one who kept things going. I was always very proud of her. She's been tough because of it all. She grew up poor and never wanted to be hungry again. I remember my parents told me that they had decided early on in their marriage that no matter what they didn't have, they would always eat good. What a contrast to today's world. My folks were from Tom Brokaw's "Greatest Generation." Someday I'll read that book. Today, I celebrate them. There were such heroes from that time. It's painful to think there are too many people in this world who do not know that! I know...we have heroes today, too, I'm not taking anything from them, just celebrating the selflessness of my parents. My mom and dad were married almost 61 years when Daddy died last summer. I haven't lived that long yet...and a marriage that long is a milestone I will never know.
Do you think being Catholic can be in the genes? I was so surprised to feel like I was back to my roots when I converted at 26 years old. Certainly I was raised in the Methodist church, mostly of my own initiative. Mom wanted me to be exposed to church when I was little and made sure I at least went to Vacation Bible School in the summers. They were some of my best memories. She was actually Baptist, but didn't attend services but once in a while and she'd take me with her. I remember one time dressing all up for Easter, and I was a little girl with a hat. I remember that hat like it was yesterday. The only other time I can remember her being in church was when I was young, our neighborhood Methodist church, in which I was active all by myself, was dedicating the new sanctuary. Mom made Dad go to church because I just begged and begged for them to go. That's the only time I remember him being in church, but she made him go. And, I will say, my parents are both faithful people, they simply didn't go to church. Ever. As a matter of fact, I spent my dad's last night with him and he was suffering terribly. It will always comfort me that in his delirium he said, "Jesus loves me." A simple statement of fact. Jesus loves me. And so He does.
