It was a pleasure and a privilege to celebrate Mothering Sunday with my own mother today. Our Piscean pedicure made for a pleasantly unconventional way in which to honour our relationship, and was something of a novel experience for both of us. The sensation on first exposing our feet to the Garra Rufa or ‘doctor’ fish is hard to describe, but has been compared to mild electric shocks, or pins and needles. It was extraordinary, extremely tickly and caused me to squirm and laugh simultaneously, which was amusement in itself. After the first five minutes I had acclimatised, and the fish had got to work. As we sat beside one another - mother and daughter trying out something new and nurturing, admiring and appreciating the concept, I began to reflect on our relationship and the journey so far.
Mother's Day is celebrated on different days in different places, but March, April and May are the most common month in which the day is marked. Celebrations of mothers and motherhood occur throughout the world and many of these can be traced back to ancient festivals, like the Greek cult to Cybele, the Roman festival of Hilaria.
Of course, in the States, they do things somewhat differently where one of the early calls to celebrate a Mother's Day was the Mother's Day Proclamation, written in 1870 as a pacifist reaction to the carnage of the Civil War and the Franco-Prussian War. The Proclamation was tied to the feminist sentiment that women had a responsibility to shape their societies at the political level. In the years after the Mother's Day Proclamation, Ann Jarvis founded five Mothers' Day Work Clubs to improve sanitary and health conditions. In 1907, two years after Ann Jarvis' death, her daughter Anna, held a memorial for her mother and began a campaign to make "Mother's Day" a recognised holiday in the US. Although she was successful in 1914, she was already disappointed with its commercialisation by the 1920s. She would, I fear, be turning in her grave, were she aware of what it has become today (including my own visit to the aquarium!)
It was Anna Jarvis who specified the the location of the apostrophe; to be a singular possessive, for each family to honour their mother, not a plural possessive commemorating all mothers in the world. This was also the spelling used by U.S. President Woodrow Wilson in the law making official the holiday in the U.S., by Congress on bills, and by other Presidents on their declarations. Common usage in English also dictates that the ostensibly singular possessive 'Mother's Day' is the preferred spelling, although 'Mothers' Day' (plural possessive) or 'Mothers Day' (plural non-possessive) are sometimes used. I forget whether the card I chose had an apostrophe. I do hope it did, and that it was in the correct location.
Here at home in the UK, the special day falls on the fourth Sunday of Lent and it is suggested that the festival originates from the 16th century Christian practice of visiting one's mother church annually on Laetere Sunday, which meant that most mothers would be reunited with their children on this day when young apprentices and young women in service were released by their masters that weekend. As a result of commercialisation and secularisation, it was then principally used to show appreciation to one's mother, although it is still recognised in the historical sense by some churches, with attention paid to Mary the mother of Jesus as well as the traditional concept of the 'Mother Church'.
By 1935 Mothering Sunday had become less prominent in European calendars. There were efforts to revive the festival in the early 20th century, but it was not revived until US World War II soldiers reintroduced the Mother's Day celebrations to the UK, when it was merged with the Mothering Sunday traditions still observed within the Church of England. By the 1950s it had become popular in the whole of the UK, thanks to the efforts of UK merchants, who saw in the festival a great commercial opportunity.
Thus, people from Ireland and UK started celebrating Mother's Day on the fourth Sunday of Lent, the same day on which Mothering Sunday had been celebrated for centuries. The traditions of the two celebrations have now been mixed up, and many people think that they are the same thing.
"The moment a child is born, the mother is also born.
She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never.
A mother is something absolutely new."
Rajneesh
"Mother is a verb, not a noun."
Proverb
For me, today was an opportunity to deliberately mark a special relationship. An important relationship and one that is likely to have the most enduring influence on me. I am who I am partly because of my mother. I have inherited things from her, I have learnt from her. I am who I am also in spite of my mother. Today I chose to honour our bond, and to evidence my gratitude for the unique relationship we have together, over time and with patience and persistence, developed and grown. Sitting with my feet in the water, I wondered whether perhaps my appreciation is all too often unspoken. Our relationship is, I realise, precious. I am fortunate to know my mother. I am privileged that we have already had three decades to get to know one another.
As an adult, I am today able to recognise all that she's done for me, the unique contribution she's made and continues to make in my life. That isn't to say that it's always been easy, that it's been a straightforward road that we've trodden. Our relationship, like that between most mothers and daughters, is complex. For all our similarities, and our many differences, today the hallmarks of my maternal relationship are understanding, compassion and respect.
Time feels precious. Mummy has a chronic and deadly illness, the result of nicotine addiction. There are many activities and outings that we can enjoy together no longer. I realise that there is still so much more I would like to learn from and about my mother. Surely there's nothing wrong with a commercialised celebration if it raises into consciousness something this important.
"All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy.
No man does. That's his."
Oscar Wilde
No comments:
Post a Comment