Bill OBoyle: Celebrate your mom today -- she deserves it
May 12—WILKES-BARRE — Despite the fact that my mom died 56 years ago, today is a celebration of her life.
Mother's Day is a celebration of all mothers — those wonderful women who gave us life, nurture us, love us, mold us.
My mom certainly was all that for me, and I will never forget her and all she did for me and my dad, who by the way, was the best dad ever — as is yours, for sure.
My mom — Elizabeth Kraszewski O'Boyle — was also my best friend.
At least for 17 and a half years.
My mom died at age 42 on May 10, 1968, the day before Mother's Day in the year I graduated high school.
It was not a good time — our family was changed forever.
There has not been a single day since that I have not thought about her. I have called on her every day to help me through my life. Same with my dad. They were the two best people I have ever known and even though they have passed, they remain with me every day.
My family consisted of three people — me, Mom and Dad — and between us, we had four good legs and I had two of them. Yet, I was the least productive by far.
My Dad lost his right leg in World War II when he hit a beach in northern France and stepped on a land mine.
My Mom had polio and her left leg was weak and shorter than her right leg, requiring her to wear a leather and steel brace with an elevated shoe.
Discipline was ever-present in our house and whoever I am today, I credit my parents as being the responsible parties.
But this is about my Mom and your Mom and everybody's Mom. I wish she were here today so I could tell her how important she is to me — how she taught me so much in such little time.
Mom taught me to appreciate people — all people — regardless of race, ethnicity or religion. She saw the good in people and always accented the positive.
That was the essence of my Mom — do for others. Help where you can. Make a difference, even if it seems small to you, it's much bigger to the person you are helping.
It's those things that have stuck with me through the years.
But when my mom left this world, everything changed in my world. Thanks to my dad, we got through it.
We got through living a life far less valued without my mom in it. But we managed and we bonded.
From on high, my mom has been my celestial conscience.
Mothers are like that, though too often we don't always appreciate their value. In many cases, sons and daughters don't really get to that level of motherly appreciation until it's too late.
Mothers do amazing things on a daily basis that we mere mortals marvel at.
For instance, a mother can get her kids off to school after breakfast, make their beds, do the dishes, throw in a wash, and fold clothes out of the dryer.
Then she will go to work where she will do her job better than anyone else, find time to do a little shopping at lunchtime, stop at the store on the way home, cook dinner, pay the bills, catch up with a few friends, help with homework, do more dishes, finish the laundry, tidy up the house, take the dog for a walk, go to a soccer or Little League game, drive the neighborhood kids home, get everybody to bed and still have time for a favorite TV show before somehow transforming herself into a seductress for dad as they head off to bed.
And this happens every day.
I still recall how my mom made homemade noodles for the best soup I have ever tasted. As were her pierogies and piggies and kielbasa and scalloped potatoes and roast beef and ham and chicken and, well, everything.
And she kept an immaculate house, tolerating two males who were not nearly as neat as she was.
My mom taught me just about everything — to be kind to people, to respect people's feelings, to listen, to help, to care. To be genuine, honest and fair.
I can still hear her voice yelling, "Billy, supper time," and I would run to join her and my dad at the dinner table. I remember grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup at lunch time and ice cream for breakfast. I remember her getting all dolled up and the aroma of Jean Nate as she prepared to go out with my dad on a Saturday night. I remember her sitting on our porch as my friends and I played Wiffle Ball or basketball in our backyard.
Every year at his time, I cling to these memories and I celebrate my mom for who she was and still is — to me. And all she did — for me.
As the Fine Arts Fiesta approaches, I again think of my mom and her love of art.
Mom's dream was to one day stand face to face with the Mona Lisa — Leonardo da Vinci's masterpiece that now hangs in the Louvre in Paris.
In 2000, I traveled to Europe and I visited the Louvre. It was a trip my mother would have absolutely savored. So I was a little nervous when I entered the massive museum and began my tour.
And then, as we walked into the gallery where the Mona Lisa was, I began to choke up, realizing that I was about to stare into the eyes of the world's most famous painting.
But I was not going to view this lovely lady alone — I was going to look at the Mona Lisa through the eyes of my mother.
On that September day, my mom would finally get to see her favorite painting.
I wanted my mom to be there and, in many ways through my DNA and my faith, she was.
Happy Mother's Day.
Reach Bill O'Boyle at 570-991-6118 or on Twitter @TLBillOBoyle.
