Reflections on The Loss of a Good Mother -by Cherry Sokoloski
I have been reflecting lately on the death of my mother, which occurred Feb. 29 of this year. As usual, Mom was very considerate. Because she died on Leap Day, her family will have to endure the sadness of an anniversary only once every four years. She didn’t quite make it to 100, but she was always proud to have been born in 1920, the year that women won the right to vote. And, she always stood up for women’s rights and welfare.
The grief experience of losing my mother was a quiet and reflective one. Unlike the very hard time when my 38-year-old husband died in a plane crash, I found that I was just thoughtful and sad after Mom’s passing. Her death was not unexpected, but I always knew I would miss her. She was a great mom, and she could give good advice right up to her dying day.
For the first few of weeks after her death, I felt that Mom was quite close. To nourish that feeling, I read a book that I had snagged from Mom’s bookshelf: “Growing up in Iowa,” a collection of writings by authors (including two Pulitzer Prize winners) who grew up in Mom’s native state. Mother spent her entire life in Iowa and always loved its green fields and woodlands. In fact, when I moved to Montana in my 20s, she sent Chamber of Commerce brochures about Iowa to lure me back!
Mom was also a full-blooded Norwegian, so another source of comfort was playing Norwegian folk tunes out of her songbook.
As part of the grief experience, I sometimes found myself thinking about times when Mom was frustrated about women’s role in American society. She raised her family of five in the 1950s, facing the common challenges of the time: even though she was very intelligent and college-educated, she usually had to play second-fiddle to my father. There were some women of the time who had independent careers, but Mother was like most of her generation and stayed home (until later years) to take care of her children and the household. She commented that she could raise her kids better than anyone else, and she was right!
So, in reflecting on Mom’s life, I found that I was also grieving for the women of her generation who didn’t have a chance to fully express their abilities and potential, and whose accomplishments were not sufficiently recognized.
Once we were talking about a woman who won first prize for her pie, and Mom commented that “women have to have something to be proud about!”
Mom did have plenty of things in her life to be proud of, even though she never felt they were as important as a life-long career.
There are four girls in our family, and more than once Mom stayed up late to sew us matching dresses for Easter, the town’s centennial celebration, or a wedding. Dad would complain that she could afford to just go buy us dresses, but as Mom said later, “He didn’t get the point.” She needed to be creative!
Mom was a terrific organizer, a talent that bore fruit in many ways in her community. One of her most remarkable achievements, I think, was writing and producing patriotic shows for the Fourth of July. These entailed a chorus, costumes and historical reflections, and she did a lot of research to find appropriate music. She chose songs that were associated with various periods in U.S. history, and I still remember some of the touching Civil War songs.
So, despite the occasional frustrations, my mother was not a bitter or negative person. A saying on her refrigerator (for many, many years) was: “I can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes bear roses!” This saying now hangs on my refrigerator.
I would like to include a poem I wrote for my mother several years ago for Mother’s Day. I read it to her again a couple of weeks before she died.
Spring touches the earth with love,
And it makes me think of my Mother.
Spring brings out the best in the earth and its children…
Forsythia bursts out in gold, red tulips wave like flags in the breeze, people smile as the sun warms their hearts.
It makes me think of my Mother.
Of course, Life is more than spring sunshine.
When troubles bring clouds,
When rivers turn murky with questions and quarrels,
I talk to my Mother;
In those times, she asks (in her own words),
What is the loving thing to do?
There is more love in the world because of my Mother.
Thank you, Mom.
I was born and raised in a small town in Iowa and graduated from Iowa State University, later earning a master’s degree in technical journalism from Colorado State University.My work experience has been varied, but my favorite jobs were in journalism Besides writing, my interests include music, photography and hiking in the mountains. Currently, I live in Loveland with my husband and two dogs
