Happy Mothers' Day!

I particularly remember one Mothers' Day when all five of us kids pitched in together to buy a bottle of perfume for Mom. I think each of us kicked in a dollar. That was a lot of money back then. We used to get an allowance of 50 cents a week and with that I could buy a burger, fries and a chocolate shake at McDonald's -- and get a nickle in change. Anyway, we bought about a quart of perfume. I think it was red. You could have made a lamp out of the bottle. Thinking back on it, I never saw that bottle again and I never smelled the perfume on her. But we felt good about it. I have never done a thing in my life to make my mom ashamed of me. I may not have been blessed with musical talent or movie-star looks or Olympic athletic ability. But I've always had a healthy dose of common sense, and it always made sense to me to obey her. As a result, my life has been amazingly free of doom, gloom and disaster. I've never been arrested, never been drunk, never "experimented" with drugs, never smoked, never even received a speeding ticket. I'm totally befuddled at how people just abandon their parents' teachings when they get into their teens or early adulthood. All that wisdom, experience, morality and education is just tossed to the wayside and the offspring decide to reinvent the wheel -- taking many a tumble in the process. I don't think Mom was too happy when I turned down several scholarships and joined the military at the height of the Vietnam War. But once I no longer lived under her roof, she never again told me what to do or tried to butt into my life. She was always supportive. And I eventually got my degrees going to school nights and weekends. Because of my globe-trotting ways, I'd seldom see her more than once a year, and usually had to travel halfway around the world for a visit. But when I finally decided to settle down about 12 years ago, I finally had the time to make up for the times I'd missed. The quart of perfume became bouquets of flowers, candy, cookies, cakes, etc. Because she reared me with a strong moral foundation, I was generally able to make the right decisions in my life and they paid off in the form of a good career with increasing financial rewards. So, during the last 10 years of her life, I was able to provide her with anything she needed or wanted. The problem was trying to find out what she needed or wanted. My sisters became my spies. And now it's all over. No more Mothers' Days or birthdays or Valentine's days or any other excuse I could find to sic the UPS guy on her. No more phone calls or funny cards or two-day drives to visit her or long conversations about my boyhood ("No Ma, Aunt Erna didn't give me that glass of schnapps when I was two. I saw it on the table and thought it was water...") I didn't realize until later in my life what an enormous impact my mom made in my life. And no matter what I did to repay her, it never seemed to be enough. Call your mom today. I wonder whatever happened to that bottle of perfume.