I have been thinking about Mother’s Day lately. Whenever I think of Mother’s Day, I think of a time when I was in college. There was only one year when my mother could not make it to Oregon State’s annual Moms Weekend. B.B. King was in town to perform for the mothers and sons. Mom and I always had a great time at the annual Heckart Lodge Moms Weekend dinner and all kinds of other festivities. I was feeling kind of lonely and had nothing else going on, so I went to the concert. It was a great one. At the end, B.B. dedicated his last song to “all you little mothers out there.” Then he played an incredible, joyful, heartfelt rendition of “As the Saints Go Marching In” with the band of musicians that had already been with him for decades. It brought tears to my eyes. I was kind of embarrassed, but when I looked around, everyone else was crying, too. I remember calling Mom the next day before Sunday morning meeting to tell her I loved her.
Maybe what brought all this on was something my Dad and Mom sent me. They have an old intricately carved trunk Dad bought while he was in the Army serving at Eniwetok on the hydrogen bomb project in the South Pacific. They have kept all our important family memorabilia there ever since I can remember. They went through that trunk recently and sent us a small package of stuff they found that they thought we might like to have. There were some pictures and an old Mother’s Day card I made for Mom when I was in very early elementary school. I vaguely remember making the card. I think it must have been a second or third grade class project at Harrison Elementary school in Cottage Grove. That would have put it on Mother’s Day of 1962 or 1963. It could not have been after that. I remember being quite proud of the card and quite happy to give it to Mom. In honor of Mother’s Day, my mother (Grandma Sarah), Lorena’s mother (Grandma Conchita), my kid’s mother (Lorena), and all you other little mothers out there, here is my card.
