Remembering Mom

As Mother’s Day quickly approaches, we tend to think more about our moms. Whether your relationship is good, bad or indifferent, she is still your mother.

Since my mom is gone, I tend to romanticize our relationship. I find myself dwelling on the good times; like how she would get the family together and always cook for us. Or when she would drag us all to Easter Mass followed by the family Easter egg hunt. I remember how she entertained us when she put the colander on her head and danced around the kitchen.

Funny, but I don’t seem to spend much time thinking about when she made me angry, and those times could be frequent. She meddled in all her kids’ marriages. She not only told us how to parent, but also told our kids how they should be parented. She would say things publicly that would make us want to crawl under the table. Like the time she insisted our Iranian waiter was really from India and tried to speak Hindi to him. When he didn’t reply she thought he was snubbing a British woman.

What I miss most is calling out the words, “MOM.” It’s one of the first words we learn and when you lose your mother, you may never need to use it again. If you are married and have children together then you may make the transfer to your wife, “Go ask your mom.” “Tell your mom I said so.” “If mom says it’s ok, then I’m ok.” It seems so natural to use the word that has lived with us so long.

My wife and I never had children together. We have dogs. So suffice it to say, I call my wife my dogs’ mom. “See if mom will give you a treat.” “Ask mom to take you out.” “Go tell mom you made a mess.” My non-responsive canine children don’t know that by allowing me to use that simple, little, three letter word they have given me a gift, the gift of having a mom in my life again.



  1. Tiffany Walker-Barkm
    Posted March 22, 2013 at 8:17 pm | Permalink

    This is a beautiful entry, it’s makes me appreciate not only being able to call out “Mom” and get an answer, it makes me appreciate the word rolling off of my children’s tongues. Thank you for the new perspective.

    -Tiffany Walker-Barkman

  2. David Aragon
    Posted March 25, 2013 at 11:49 am | Permalink

    This is so true. I greatly appreciate Mr. Clarks’ openenss and tangability expressed as so many men fall short of transparancy. I’m so blessed to have my mother still alive at 78 and strong as an ox. I am very concerned about her welfare when she is in a wheelchair as I will be there by her side. I’m taking a college course on “Aging”. This coupled with Mr. Clarks’ love for his mother allows me to continue to tell my mother, “I love you, Mom!”, everytime I talk to her on the phone. With 8 other siblings, they have learned to tell her themselves that they love her as well since Dad passed away 8 yrs ago. Thank you Mr. Clark for being so real!!! God Bless.

    David L Aragon

  3. Betsy Gosnell
    Posted April 17, 2013 at 11:14 pm | Permalink

    Thank you for this lovely story. Although my Mom never danced around with a colander on her head, she did “dance” around with spareribs on her head……after the pressure cooker exploded….well, likely this was more of spontaneous event than a planned theatrical interlude! I happened upon your website because your job posting for a Wellness Nurse in Granada Hills, CA was most intriguing. I’m glad I continued to explore the Aegis site and found your blog “gift”.

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