Mothers don't get the creditthey deserve

Last week, when I joined in a small discussion group, the leader's topic was mothers.

Specifically, we were asked to discuss the kind of mothering we experienced and our reaction to it.

There were only six in our group, and five of the six entered into lively conversation about the kind of mothering they had.

I was the only quiet one. The reason is because it's too painful to think about my mother. I am ashamed of how I didn't give her the reverence and the appreciation she deserved.

She always claimed I was a "good daughter," and she's probably right. For the most part, with the exception of typically volatile teenage years, I was always obedient, attentive and respectful.

But thinking back, I know in the inner workings of my mind that I did her a great disservice. I never gave her the credit she deserved.

I saw with eyes that didn't see. I judged with a mind that was snapped shut.

And what I did see, I interpreted with a self-centered spin instead of reality.

I have no idea why some daughters seem to be born as what we call a "daddy's girl." But I know with all certainty I was one of them.

I knew that if my father could pick only one person to be with, he would pick me. At least that's how he made me feel. He took me everywhere he went. He even took me along when he went to the fire company to kibitz with his buddies.

Most of my precious childhood memories were of times I spent with my father. If I went to the movies or to a sporting event, it was with my dad, not my mother, who was working as a waitress while I was with my dad.

Little kids don't know anything about family finances. I knew my mom struggled to make ends meet. But I never connected the dots to realize she worked only because she had to.

When my mom and dad got a divorce, I didn't see the heroic role she played in being the sole support for two little kids. She worked days in a factory and nights as a waitress.

I never saw her courage, never realized her feistiness was what helped us survive.

I'm ashamed to admit she couldn't win with me. If she was gone all the time, I said it was because she didn't care about my life.

When she was there and did enforce strict rules and guidelines, I said she was "mean" and didn't care about me.

See what I mean? She couldn't win.

I think that's the case with a lot of mothers.

They don't get the credit they deserve at least not while they are living.

Sadly, when a mom is gone, that's when we think back and realize how much she did for us.

I think it was Erma Bombeck who said a mother is often faulted while living but she becomes a saint after she dies.

My mother has been dead for a decade, and yes, she has become a saint in my eyes. I value her more and more with each passing year.

While she was here I wish I could have told her I saw her sacrifices for us. I saw how she worked until she was too tired to stand. But instead of resting at night, she cooked and cleaned.

Instead of applauding her, I put her down, saying she kept the house as if she expected the Good Housekeeping photographer to arrive at any minute.

When two of the women in our discussion group said they grew up with single mothers who were never there for them, I wondered if they, too, didn't see the sacrifices their mothers made for them. Or, were they right in thinking they raised themselves?

Few situations are as black and white as we believe. It's the overlooked gray area that completes the picture.

Finally, I spoke up during the discussion, making one point: No parent ever starts off saying, "I want to hurt my kids. I am going to do things that will be destructive to them."

No, we all do the best we can with our circumstances even when we don't get full credit.

A few years before my mother died, I drove two hours to see her and had a chance for a real heart-to-heart talk.

I told her I was sorry I wasn't a better daughter to her sorrier still that I didn't appreciate her enough.

She looked puzzled, then said: "What are you talking about? You never gave me a bit of problems and you were the one who was always there for me. You were the one I always turned to."

See that's another great thing about mothers. Later in life they develop amnesia and only remember the good things.

I guess it's like childbirth all over again where you forget the pain and remember only the joy.

This Mother's Day, may you remember the joys. And if you're still lucky enough to have your mom, tell her how much you appreciate her. Because the older you get, the more you'll understand what she did for you.