We too easily forget mothers.
I’m writing this column Thursday morning in a cookie bakery in Charleston, South Carolina. I’m writing it here and now because last night when I originally wrote this column I wrote it about traveling to South Carolina (spoiler alert, that’ll be next Sunday’s column), but then I remembered that today was Mother’s Day. So, I put aside the vacation column for one honoring mothers, and I’m freely acknowledging that I am a prime example of not making our moms a priority.
I don’t think most of us forget our moms maliciously. Sure, there are bad sons and daughters just like there are bad moms, but I think most people don’t intend to give moms the short straw. One of the problems is that if you had a good mom she prioritized everyone but herself, probably to a fault, and so because mom spent all her time making sure everyone else was taken care of it is easy for us to get busy and forget to make sure that she is taken care of too.
To rectify this situation we have one single, solitary day of the year where we celebrate and focus on moms, which borders on criminal neglect. If you and your mom share 70 years on this planet that means there will be 70 days you prioritize her. By contrast your mother will have prioritized you roughly 280 days in the womb and 25,550 days outside of it.
Every mom is different. They’ve all got their own baggage and issues, many of which were passed down to them by their own mother, but if you’ve got a mom that loved you, that cared how you turned out, and that did her best, you have spent your life ahead of the game whether you realize it or not.
If the fathers in this country had any sense, and I don’t think that is a forgone conclusion, we would band together and change Father’s Day to Mother’s Day The Sequel. It would honor our moms and earn points with our wives, which is frankly the best present a dad could ask for to begin with.
Love on your mom today, but make sure not to forget about her the other 364 days of the year.
Also, mom, I bought a cookie to bring home to you, but by the time this column was finished so was the cookie. Just know that I love you and I’ll bake some just for you when I get back.