How Mother’s Day came to be

May is a time when we receive many reminders to pause and take time to recognize the contributions of mothers to our lives. Depending on one’s experience with her mother, it can be a time of celebration or a time to feel disconnected and out of the sink with the rest of the world.

As usual, I decided to investigate how Mother’s Day came to be. The ancient Egyptians held annual festivals in honor of the goddess Isis, whom they considered the mother of the pharaohs. Although the ancient Romans had a 3-day festival for Isis to commemorate a major battle and usher in winter, Mother’s Day was more rooted in celebrating the goddess Cybele, the Great Mother. The main mother deity of the Greeks was Rhea, the Greek mother of the gods. Later, in Europe, a feast to honor motherhood was on the fourth Sunday of Lent. The early Christians honored this day the church in which they were baptized which they called the ‘mother church’. A clerical decree in England in the 1600s expanded the celebration to include human mothers and called it Mother’s Day. It became a special holiday to show compassion for the working classes where they were allowed to travel back to their hometowns to visit their families. It also allowed for a respite from the fasting and penance of Lent, where families from all over England created a family feast with the mother as the guest of honour. Many visited their mothers and brought cakes and flowers.

The motherhood day tradition was not brought to America with the early English settlers. It wasn’t until 1870 that Julia Ward Howe, author of the Battle Hymn of the Republic, called for an international Mother’s Day. She was so devastated by the carnage of the Civil War that she called for mothers to unite and protest the futility of “Sons Killing Other Mothers’ Children” and for women to unite to celebrate peace and motherhood. In 1873, groups of women in 18 North American cities celebrated Mother’s Day on June 2. Although her vacations didn’t catch on, Anna Reeves Jarvis adapted them. Jarvis turned it into a celebration to bring together families and neighbors that had been divided by the Civil War. The group celebrated what was called Mother’s Friendship Day. After her death, her daughter, Anna M. Jarvis, in 1908, petitioned the superintendent of the church where her mother had taught Sunday school for more than 20 years. She wanted to create an official day in memory of her mother and in honor of peace. On May 10, 1908, her request was fulfilled and the first official Mother’s Day was celebrated at Andrew’s Methodist Church in Grafton, West Virginia and at a church in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. She arranged for each woman to be given two white carnations, her mother’s favorite flower, that day. White carnations are now given to honor deceased Mothers, while pink or red carnations are given to honor Mothers who are still alive.

In 1908, United States Senator Elmer Burkett of Nebraska made a proposal to make Mother’s Day a national holiday at the request of the Young Men’s Christian Association. He was defeated, but by 1909, forty-six states and parts of Canada and Mexico were holding Mother’s Day services.

Ann M. Jarvis continued to work to honor Mother’s Day by petitioning state governments, business leaders, women’s groups, churches, and other institutions and organizations for years. She eventually received the endorsement of the World Sunday School Association, which influenced state legislators and Congress. In 1912, West Virginia became the first state to officially recognize Mother’s Day. Woodrow Wilson declared the second Sunday in May Mother’s Day as a national holiday in 1914.

Since then, this holiday has become very popular and commercialized. Ann M. Jarvis fought for years to stop the commercialization of this event. In the 1930s, she filed a petition against the postage stamp with her mother’s image, a vase of white carnations, and the words “Mother’s Day.” She did not prevent the stamp from being made, but “Mother’s Day” was removed. This is a good example of when an idea whose time has come can be alterable but it is not stoppable.

For me, Mother’s Day has been a day full of emotions. First, because I couldn’t have children and second, it’s a reminder of the lack of motherhood I received from my biological mother. Our connection, though weak, is still there and I can and do acknowledge her for the things she did right, as well as hold her accountable for the things that hurt me. I like my mother as much as I love her. Now she is not the same person that I experienced as a child and that she hurt me so deeply. Her life has written about her for better or worse. She has her wisdom as I have mine and we share it with each other. I feel her support and her love for me as an adult, even though she needed it as a child. Our relationship is a work in progress. I think he’s gotten to a good place and I’m thankful for that. I would say we are good friends.

The woman who raised me as a child, my Nannie, is long dead. She was my mother’s mother. It has been interesting to know that my mother also felt closer to her grandmother than to her mother. Such are the unconscious family intergenerational patterns. The longing and pain for what I had with Nannie still lingers today. She’s not as strong and bitter as she used to be. Processing my grievance over her loss and integrating it has allowed me to open up to more memories and meanings of what we had together. The contributions of her presence continue to live within me today. Those experiences written into my neurophysiology have prevented me from self-destructing many, many times. Those experiences of unconditional love and acceptance that I felt with her are the reservoir of my ability to love so much today. She lives in my large window of stress tolerance which helps me balance my multiple traumas. Neurophysiologically hard-wired into my systems is the feeling that no matter how bad it gets, I can overcome, overcome, navigate, or overcome life’s challenges and difficulties. When I get to the bottom, her presence comforts me and guides me to transcend my limitations. Her belief in me was experienced in how she looked at me, spoke to me, and listened to me. It has been an oasis in the desert of human relationships. Moving beyond my shame and self-blame, I now open up and realize that the great pain of losing her kept me closed off and blinded to others who have loved me like she did. I am now opening the door of my pain and allowing love to enter. I am learning to be my mother from the love of my understanding and experiences with her. I am learning to surrender to love instead of fearing losing it. I think she would be proud.