Happy Mother's Day !


This morning i meditated on the mothers in my family. It spanned six generations . It began with my Great grandmother who emigrated from Bellerup, Denmark the day after her wedding. She came to northern New Brunswick with her husband. They had been promised good farmland cheaply. It turned out to be wilderness.
She had nine children, four of whom died in childhood. One by fire and the others diphtheria. How did she survive?I have a photo of her. she is wearing a danish costume, only for her it wasn't a costume , it was her daily outfit. a long woolen skirt. a puffy sleeved printed shirt and an odd hat . I love that photo. When i was a little girl, my mother told me 'Grammy' had her hand in her pocket because she kept candy there. She always carried sweets for the little ones. I'm like that. When i go to pick up my grandson at kindergarten i always bring a little treat .
Then there was my grandmother, "Ruby Nancy " She was born in Maine. She had been orphaned and raised by relatives. My grandfather boarded at her parent's home. They fell in love and moved to New Denmark to the farm, my great grandparents had carved out of the forest. I don't think Ruby was happy there . She was a city girl. The Danes, according to my mother were very straight laced and didn't accept outsiders . She had eight children. My grandfather died rather young leaving her to run the farm and raise the children on her own. She sold the farm and moved in with my mother. She partied a bit and painted her lips and nails. You know the song:"Oh Ruby, you've painted your lips..........Don't take your love to town". Well she did.
My mom ( who was the best of the lot of them) was the eldest of her family. She worked the farm along side of her father. She loved horses and rode bareback. She was daring and courageous. Her sister told me mom was not afraid of anything. I love the story she tells about them swimming in the swimming hole and stealing their younger sister's clothes and making her walk home naked. It was mean and rotten . But it says so much about the three of them on that dirt country road in the heat of the summer.
My mother had eight children, one of whom died when he was nine months old. There are four daughters and three sons. I am the youngest. I have two daughters . I can honestly say all of my sisters are wonderful mother's and their daughters are fabulous mothers. I feel so proud when I
look at my nieces and great nieces at how amazing they are, not to mention my own fantastic daughters who are the most amazing women and mothers EVER. And i would be remiss not to mention my sister -in - laws. I have been blessed. My brothers have been blessed. Their children have had great mothers.
But more than anything I want to thank stepmothers everywhere. To my mind this is the hardest job of all. Motherhood carries with it an inherent recognition and honour, but not so with a step mom. They are not always accepted or honoured.They are not the "real mother" and may not particularly like their inherited family. But my hats are off to those who try.To those who are kind and patient and respectful . I believe they have a free pass to heaven. And they will also get breakfast in bed this wonderful morning along with all the other great moms past and present.
I have only one granddaughter. I hope I will have lots and lots of great granddaughters and wonderful granddaughters -in- law. I see in my tiny granddaughter the makings of a mother in the tradition of all the great ones in my family. Whether she has children or not, that 's for her and fate to decide. But I do know and see in her the traits that have passed down through the ages of love and caring and courage and curiosity and joy at this marvelous wonderful gift of life we have been given by our mothers (okay and fathers, but hey it isn't father's day yet!)