May 12th is Mother’s day. Mothers have a tough job. I possibly…probably…positively…made it tougher than it should have been for my mom.
In the immortal words of Dr. Scott:
“From the day he was born
He was trouble.
He was the thorn
In his mother’s side…”
The first book(s) I have is “The Mother’s Encyclopedia, in six volumes” the 1951 edition. It is an alphabetized set of topics, with index in last book for easy finding of concerns, because (certainly for my mom) “every age has its problems.” I may have been a bit of a challenge.
Interesting, is that it is alphabetized, and the coincidental connection to the first and last entry in each volume:
Volume one-Accidents to Competition (between my brother and I)
Volume two-Competitive Sports to Family Conferences (again with my brother…had to address with Dad)
Volume three-Family Size to Maternity (I finally got used to my first brother. Did I need a sister, too?)
Volume four-Measles to Prostitution (what can you pickup from other people?)
Volume five-Psychiatric Help to Smoking (whose nerves were shot?)
Volume six-Social Maturity Scale to Worry (Mom always worried about my maturity)
For my 33rd birthday, my mom gave me this book, “Love You Forever” by Robert Munsch, 1990. It is a wonderful story about the relationship between a boy and his mother through their lives.
We had given each other books many times, but this book meant a lot to her. It has a wonderful yet sad story to it. Mom actually signed and dated it for me. It was very special.
I then a few years ago (four, this October), I saw this pop-up book online, “Love You Forever-Pop-Up Edition” by Robert Munch, and paper engineering by Bruce Foster, 2017. Whoa, Mom has a wonderful pop-up book collection-it was her passion-and the original book meant so much to her. Mom also was sick in the hospital, so I ordered the book, to help her along and try to brighten her up. Unfortunately, she passed away in the morning, of the day the book arrived in the mail.
This could be perhaps the saddest, and yet one of the most important books I have in the library. My Mom and I had a special bond. She looked out for me in my worst times, and I tried to look after her, in her worst. This book reminds me of that bond. I don’t really believe that the book arrived too late, I believe that she knew then, and now (looking down), that I was thinking of her. And as the story goes Mom, “I love you forever.”
Librarytomes 