Mother's Day

After a beautiful ceremony, cocktail reception and dinner. 

And after Peter and I played dress up in the photo booth. 

 

Around ten o'clock, the bride and groom wanted to say a little something. Mike led off - he reinforced how stunning his bride looked, applauded the parents, and graciously thanked everyone in the room for being there.

Then Theresa took the microphone. As she composed herself, I started thinking back on our wedding day - how I had scratched this vital part of the agenda at the last minute. I started thinking about what I would have said, the song and dance I would have done, the spotlight shining a little brighter on us, the happy couple. I wondered what she could possible say to make her appear any more beautiful that she already was. Something witty, smart, loving, endearing. I leaned in to listen.

'I just want to thank all the mothers in the room. And want to wish them an early happy Mother's Day.'

I was shocked. It was her special day - her moment to shine - and there she was, shifting the attention away from her glowing smile and onto all the matriarchs who had helped bring Mike and her together. It was a sweet, selfless and inspiring gesture that got me thinking ...


At one point or another during my childhood, I asked my parents why we celebrated Mother's Day and Father's Day, but never Kid's Day. The response - 'Everyday is kid's day.' So unsatisfying. And honestly, so misunderstood until yesterday evening.

As Theresa made her understated remarks, I realized that she was doing what every mother in the room would have done - that is, making her special day about the people she loved. I thought about how my Mom always did this. How it was less about the award she was receiving, and more about the Barry family barbecue following the pomp and circumstance. It wasn't about an expensive car or designer clothing, it was about making sure that her children got the best education. It was making sure she got to the office extra early, so she could be at my plays, recitals, and games in the afternoon. It wasn't the movie she wanted to see, but the one that the whole family would enjoy. It wasn't about getting to the gym or the salon everyday, it was about making sure that her daughter had the perfect prom dress, even if she was going stag. It was about us kids, every day.

I saw this same quality today in the five moms that I celebrated Mother's Day with at the Chicago Yacht Club. How even on their special days, they effortlessly made everyone else feel like a million bucks.

 

How they made sure that their children had their chocolate milk and five extra donut holes.

 

How it wasn't their pretty flower, it was yours.

 

And how the best gift that they could receive was their whole family surrounding them.

I only wish that given my Mother's Day revelation, I could have been with my Mom, who for 33 years has made each and everyday about her children.

Thank you Mom for so thoughtfully, generously, and lovingly making every day as special as possible for me. For setting such a wonderful example and for teaching me that true happiness comes when you pass the mic, shift the spotlight, and lend your applause.  

Lo.