Even if Mom’s not here, here’s how to keep her story with you on Mother’s Day | Opinion
It can be hard for some daughters and sons to celebrate Mother’s Day if their mother is no longer alive. It can be sad, even. Today, I offer a creative way to honor Mom by remembering her life story.
My mother, Virginia K. Walker, passed away on Oct. 19, 2000, but she is with me every day in my heart. So when Mother’s Day comes around every year, I dutifully post a message on social media with her beautiful photograph and I click “like” and respond for every comment posted.
It’s just not enough, you know?
This year, a friend proposed something different.
What if we got together this year and told each other the stories of our mothers?
Northland resident Mischelle Saunders-Gottsch is a podcaster and a storyteller, like me.
“How many women do we know that have moms in heaven and are feeling alone this Mother’s Day?” Saunders-Gottsch asked me. “I can tell you about my mom and you can tell me about yours.”
Her suggestion falls right in line with her podcast, the Altered Stories Show, which tells stories of women around the world.
What an incredible idea. Our mothers have wonderful stories and of course we should tell them!
So, on Saturday afternoon, we went to a central Kansas City teahouse and ordered our favorite brews. We sat there drinking out of fancy cups and snacking on petite pastries and talked about our moms. As women, this just felt right, but I know it’s also a great idea for sons to consider.
It was wonderful. Can you imagine remembering the history of your mother? Not just her illness, or her death or how much you miss her, but her story.
“It can be a really difficult time for some,” Saunders-Gottsch said. “I have a daughter and a granddaughter, but it’s still sad not having my mother.”
As I stopped to remember what I learned firsthand and everything family members had told me about my mom, I smiled. I encourage you to take a moment and do the same today.
Virginia Walker was adventurous. She moved to Anchorage, Alaska, from Chicago in the 1950s where she married my father, Bill, and they managed a supper club together. Both she and my father were good cooks, and while I don’t have a menu from that club, I know the food was delicious.
My mother, an incredible beauty, was a model while in Alaska. I have a photo of her at the club, furs draped around her shoulders, striking a pose better than Tyra Banks.
My mother was an entrepreneur. She returned to Chicago and opened a storefront diner with my father on Chicago’s South Side, named after her. Virginia’s was famous for its corned beef dinners and blue plate specials that changed daily. She and Daddy were also famous for feeding the poor and homeless people who would come by. Maybe that’s why they never made any money. But that place was full of heart.
My mom bettered herself. She only got as far as high school, but while a nurse’s aide in Chicago, she took advantage of a program to become a licensed practical nurse. She mostly worked in hospitals but also, near the end of her career, in the homes of the terminally ill.
She cared for patients at the end of their lives, and was such a blessing to them. I never wanted to be a nurse (couldn’t stand the blood) but she taught me that death was a part of life and not to fear it.
My mom was a wife to a loving man who had flaws. She was a daughter to a woman who didn’t always show as much love as she deserved, and a patient sister to her little brother.
Finally, my mother was a mom, raising two girls in Chicago. One grew up to be a nurse, like her, and the other became a journalist.
Talking about her and sharing her story like this made 2024 one of the best Mother’s Days I’ve had in a long time —at least since I lost her.
You can do this, too. Get together with your family, your siblings, your friends. Sit down and tell the stories of your moms over tea, or even a cocktail if that’s your thing.
And while your mother is still alive, don’t wait to celebrate her history.
Happy Mother’s Day.
