"I grew up around it," the then fortysome-year-old woman said during a phone call home. "Mom was always there, leading Brownie and Girl Scout groups, walking in the woods, admiring wildflowers. But I didn't know she could do -- and did do -- all the things you wrote about in the book.

"Come on, Cheri," I said, "you know better than that."

"I should have, I know," our daughter replied. "But maybe I was too close to it; maybe I just expected it of her." She paused, then added: "I know it's all true because I heard and saw bits and pieces while growing up. But, gee, after reading about it and reflecting on it, I now realize that if Mom and were lost together in the wilderness, that I'd be safe in her hands.

I roared, and was still chuckling after hanging the phone back in its cradle. But after doing some reflecting of my own, I think it's probable the girl shared a message about most mothers, everywhere.

More often than not fathers cut a higher profile. Meanwhile mothers are content to stand in the shadows, basking in their childrens' or their husbands' achievements. I know that's true of Cheri's mother.

But is that fair? No, absolutely not. Fairness aside, however, how can a child grow up amid a close-knit family and be aware of the accomplishments of one parent and not the other? Yet isn't that the norm, rather than the exception where mothers are concerned? Are we fathers better publicists than mothers?

There's a bronze plaque standing on my desk that may be appropriate to this discussion. It was given me by a lady friend of Jane's who must have understood the problem:

"Do you want to talk to the man in charge, or to the woman who knows what's going on?"

All over America there are those of us who could benefit by researching their own mother's background and accomplishments. And to really understand, they may be required to dig even deeper than they think. I know a fine, intriguing mother who received a Bachelor of Arts degree at 78 years of age. Her children were proud, and well they should be; but they were also amazed. And at that, they should not have been. After all, the kind of tenacity and self-discipline displayed by their mother wasn't recently painted on with a brush. Nope, it could only come from deep within; a repository of strength and character that had lain dormant in the modest woman for decades.

Mothers are loved and appreciated for their kindness -- this we all know. But are they always recognized for their depth, understanding, proficiency, and intellect? They bandage "owies" and bake cookies and drive us to ball games. But do we always recognize mom as a never-failing, always-caring person with her own suppressed yearnings, learnings, drives, strives, weals, and zeals?

Perhaps the best thing we could do for mom on Mother's Day is cut her a little slack in life.

 

Next week? Another walk on the wild side.