Remember: You only get one mother
They say there’s nothing greater than a mother’s love. That’s been the case in my life, and hopefully, in yours. On this Mother’s Day, we should all remember that moms are special. After all, without our moms, none of us would be here. But it’s really after a child is born that a mother earns her stripes. Former Pittsburgh Steelers head coach Chuck Noll once said something along the lines of, “Strong mothers make for good football players.” His assessment is a testament to the big and lasting influence mothers can have.
My Mom hasn’t had what anyone would consider an easy life. She became a single parent, raising two sons, way before it was prevalent in society. It wasn’t a matter of anyone’s choice; the situation was forced on her when my father died, leaving her widowed at age 34.
For seven years before that, she took care of two small children and a disabled husband. She got up early in the morning, often before daybreak, to go to work in a sweater factory. She drove there in the snow, in the days before cell phones, sometimes before the township truck had salted and ashed the roads.
She’d get home in the early afternoon, in time to start cooking dinner, which was always ready when we got home from school. Mom made sure we were well fed – even when, as teen-agers, doing so seemed to be its own full-time job. Anybody who ever raised teen-aged boys will tell you how much they can eat.
Mom also made sure we had clean clothes and, with my grandparents’ help, a roof over our head. The washing machine would start humming early on Saturday morning, and we’d awaken to the smells of breakfast being cooked, the aroma eggs, bacon or pancakes wafting through the house.
Mom crisply ironed everything, including our white T-shirts. I detest ironing and avoid it at all costs, and to this day I don’t know how she had the patience or the stamina to stand over that ironing board for hours. Especially on a hot summer day, in a house that had no air conditioning. But the job got done.
When I graduated from high school, I started attending Penn State Fayette Campus and simultaneously got a part-time job at the old Gee Bee Furniture Store in Uniontown Mall. Some days I’d have an 8 a.m. class and not get home until after the store closed at 9:30 p.m. But every morning, before I left home, I’d find a huge pre-packed lunch waiting for me as I headed out the door. I’d usually need some additional fast food to get me through the day, but Mom made sure I wouldn’t go hungry, especially if I’d be spending several hours toting around sleeper sofas, hutches and end tables.
When I moved on to the University Park campus, on my visits home Mom would send me back loaded with foodstuffs, including some of my favorite homemade dishes that she’d made and frozen for me. I viewed them as delicacies, and apportioned my consumption accordingly. Instead of eating three halupkies at one time, I’d eat one on three different occasions.
It would be a vast understatement to say that my Mom kept a clean house. A dirty dish didn’t last very long. Everything that was supposed to be folded was folded; vacuuming and dusting took place every week, like clockwork. Looking back, I don’t know how she did it all.
After we were grown, Mom started taking care of my grandparents. She ended up being their cook, chauffeur and steady companion. At times, it wasn’t an easy job, as anyone who’s dealt with the elderly can tell you. And it’s a sadder duty, because unlike with children, who are on the rise to adulthood, parents who hit their 80s are on a steady decline.
From my Mom, I learned the value of hard work, the importance of preparedness and that unconditional love can manifest itself in many ways. I know she wouldn’t approve of some of the things I’ve said or done – especially those that are contrary to how I was raised – but that never stopped her from caring about me or worrying about me or loving me.
We all should have mothers like that. She still worries about me and tries to help me out, and still brings me some of my favorite foods from time to time. And it’s still as appreciated as much as it was in my college days, maybe even more so.
You can have many friends in this life, get many jobs, make many acquaintances, acquire multiple lovers and even spouses. But you only get one mother.
Paul Sunyak is editorial page editor of the Herald-Standard. You can reach him at 724-439-7577 or psunyak@heraldstandard.com