A day honoring mothers began in a small town in West Virginia

by Gary Kennedy

Sunday, May 9, is the day we set aside for the favorite lady in our life, Mother. There isn’t a lot of history regarding Mother’s Day but I will share what I know. Mother’s Day in the U.S.A. is held on the second Sunday in May. Internationally this holiday varies based upon lent and other variables. Mother’s Day recognizes mothers, motherhood and the maternal bond in general.

A lady by the name of Anna Jarvis wanted the world to realize the tremendous contribution that motherhood played in our world. So, on May 10, 1908, proclaimed the first Mother’s Day, at St. Andrews Church, in Grafton, West Virginia. In the U.S.A. we love our holidays. We have a Mother’s Day, a Father’s Day, Siblings Day and Grandparents Day. All are celebrated in a similar manner. It’s a family get-together time with lots of food and festivity. Lawn games are still very popular as is the outside barbeque. There is more food, more calories and the start of another diet. Flowers are appropriate gifts as are other gifts for the lady of the house, the one who gave birth to us. Lots of love and respect is bestowed on the one we call mom or hun.

One of the first events was started by women’s peace groups; in favor of peace and against war. A common early activity was the meeting of groups of mothers whose sons had fought and died on both sides of the American Civil War

In 1868, four years post civil war, Ann Jarvis; Anna Jarvis’s mother organized a committee to establish a “Mother’s Day International Associate”. In 1912 Anna Jarvis trademarked the phrases “Second Sunday in May” and “Mother’s Day” and created the Mothers’ International Association. Anna specifically noted that “Mother’s” should be a singular possessive, for each family. Mother’s Day is the third largest holiday in the U.S.A. for sending cards; criticized by some as a Hallmark Holiday. Over 50 percent of American households send cards.

In 1908 Anna Jarvis delivered 500 carnations to the first celebration, thus carnation became the flower of choice for the holiday. Anna chose the carnation because it was her mother’s favorite. It became also the lapel ornament of the gentlemen during this event. A pink carnation was of choice if your mother was still living and a white one if she had passed. The church eventually picked this up. Other variations are used these days, including live plants.

The sad ending to this informative piece is, the holiday became so commercialized that Anna Jarvis became an opponent of her own created holiday. She spent all of her inheritance and the remainder of her life fighting what she saw as an abuse of her heart’s creation. She became very obsessed with what she saw. She started a protest in 1948 and was arrested for disturbing the peace. She finally stated she wished she had never started the holiday. She died that year.

Americans spend $2.6 billion on flowers, $1.53 billion on gifts and $68 million on cards. From NASCAR to the Players Golf Championship, mother is on the billboard May/June. The colors pink and white are used at these and the hundreds events like them. Although Anna’s heart was broken much good did come from her love of her mother. It is one of the few holidays that has stood the test of time.

I wish my flower was pink but for many years now it has been white. Thank you Anna, your heart was true and though what you gave and left behind changed for many, there are still many who are grateful for your undying sweet gift. God Bless all our mothers. Enjoy your time together.

by Ralph Ashburn

It’s been a long, lonely, cold winter so I am really looking forward to coming home for the summer. But I’m not sure if traveling to Maine will be as bad as last year. As an old guy I spend time at my different kids’ homes, but love to spend summers at the camp. Last year I never knew what the law of the day was concerning Covid. Sometimes the state required a 14-day quarantine. Sometimes I had to be tested within a few hours of crossing the big bridge. There were even times that if I traveled into Maine, I could not get out because neighboring states had more entry rules.

Despite all last year’s rules, I was fortunate to spend time at the camp, but with not many people around I had all the black flies to myself. The rules said that I needed to pack in enough food for 14 days of quarantine and not go to a restaurant unless it was a drive-through. I remember one day an old friend of mine over on the coast called me to say she knew of a restaurant with inside seating and did I want to join her for lunch.

My conversations with myself had started to get dull and repetitive, so an offer of a lunch date with an old friend was the best news I’d heard in a long while. This would spring me from lockdown isolation. I was thrilled; a real live person, face to face. My friend told me that there would be conditions, which I ignored as they were listed.

Jo Ann is an old public health nurse who began by saying that she has paid attention to every Covid-19 press conference by the governor and CDC director. First, we would remain six feet apart with masks on at all times. There would be no hugging, no touching and absolutely no kissing. “Fine, fine, fine,” I agreed, as long as talking was still on the table.

Jo wanted to meet at a popular diner on the coast. It was not my favorite, but I’ll agree to anything to talk to a live person. We arrived at the same time and Jo yelled from her car, “Leave an empty space between the cars.” I got out of my car to the command, “Don’t come any closer; and follow six feet behind me and keep your mask on until we get our food.”

This is a small diner with booths the size of card tables. It was neat when we were kids because you could play kneezies with your date, but not now with a nervous public health nurse. Jo said that we would sit diagonally and not face each other when we talked. Fine, but two old people wearing masks have to keep saying, “What did you say? I can’t read your lips.”

The food came and Jo suggested that we remove our masks but face away from each other. I didn’t care as I was talking with a real live person and enjoying every word. In fact, I was so carried away that with such a small table, I began drinking Jo’s drink from her straw. When I realized what I was doing, I had to tell her. “Jo, excuse me, but I drank from your glass by mistake.” With bulging eyes, she stood up and shouted, “I’m dead. All you people from Massachusetts are infected with Covid. God help me.”

I didn’t know if I should apologize to her or tell the rest of the diner that I’d been successfully tested and quarantined, or maybe just run out to my car and leave. Then Jo said, “Wait a minute, I didn’t drink from my glass after you so I will not die and don’t worry you will not catch anything from me.” What a relief. But the rest of the diner customers now assumed that I was the infected enemy from Massachusetts. Jo noticed the hostility beginning in the other diners so she stood and announced, “Don’t worry folks, false alarm. I am a professional nurse and he is not infected.” Calmness did not return to this angry crowd so I told Jo that we had to leave and we quickly exited to our cars.

Jo yelled from her car, “That was fun. Call me the next time you visit. We’ll have lunch.” Sure, I thought as I sped back to camp, removed my number plates and hid the car behind the wood pile. I self-quarantined out of fear. Hopefully, this year will be different. I have shots, a Covid passport, enough masks to cover my head and so many tests that my nose feels like a roto-router demonstration site. The only thing I will not do is call Jo Ann to ask her out for lunch as I cannot trust myself to not drinking her drink or trying to escape from those angry people at the diner. I’m safer staying at the camp and putting up with the black flies.