Every day is Mother’s Day. That’s what they say. I’ve never truly understood the sentiment behind that claim. Do we praise mothers every day? Do they receive their just recognition every day? Of course not. But then again, neither do fathers.
It’s fair to postulate that no one gets sufficiently appreciated day to day. The ones closest to us often assume our presence and our contributions to their lives. No one gets a gold medal for taking the garbage. People rarely cheer when we do what we’re supposed to do – unless we’re throwing a ball for a living…
Let’s face it. Life is about doing what must be done. “Just do the work, Don,” Freddy Rumsen says earnestly to Don Draper. Just do your job.
When someone recognizes the effort it feels so good. But even with no one is watching, no one praising us: the work must get done. That’s just the way it is.
This Sunday, we are reminded by Hallmark, Godiva, and the floral industry, is Mother’s Day. Despite the commercial angle on this, it would be a wonderful thing to go out of your way and tell several mothers you may know how thankful you are for what they’ve done and how they’ve done it. For carrying then caring for children. For drying tears and packing lunches. For cradling fevered heads. For tuck-ins and for monster-free zones.
Every day is no more Mother’s Day than it is Purim. Every day is an opportunity to do the right thing for no other reason than doing the right thing. Not for flowers, not for praise. Just because. Every day is the right time to praise another human for helping carry the load.
On Sunday, praise a Mom.
Before Shabbat 