Mother's Day and Parkinson's Disease

It is that time a year again when sons and daughters celebrate that special person in their lives, their mothers. Moms have a special connection with their children, a bond forged through nine months of living in the same body, the special event coming to fruition finally as the child is born. It is said that "Mother" is the name of God on the lips and hearts of all children. You see this demonstrated many different ways.

At any sporting event when the cameras turn on an athlete, the first thing usually done is a wave of the hand and "Hi, mom." The quickest way to raise the ire of a young man is to simply insult his mom. The tattoo on the arm never says dad, always mom.

My mother and father divorced when I was very young. I was raised by her and my grandmother, essentially having two mother figures in my life. In a way I was doubly blessed. My mom always put myself and my two brothers first, sacrificing so we would never do without, as most moms will do for their children. She made sure that our birthdays and Christmas were special events. We did not have a lot of money, but it always seemed like we did. Every morning when woke up, our clothes were laid out and ready for us to make sure we were dressed nice for school.

I learned to cook from my mom, a fantastic cook who wrote the column in the food section of our local newspaper. My friends always showed up around dinnertime at our house hoping to be invited in for dinner. I recall one day after one of my friends was lucky enough to enjoy one of my mom's home cooked meals, he neglected to say thank you. My mom informed me of this and said if he wanted to be invited back again, he would need to be more courteous. The words "please" and "thank you" were instilled in me a young age.

I also learned to speak fluent Italian from my mother and grandmother as a necessity because my grandmother spoke no English except for a few colorful metaphors that we taught her.

As much as my mom spoiled us, she spoiled her grandchildren even more. Every time my mom would take the kids, I knew I would hear a story about where they ate and what Bebe bought them. Vivi was her nickname, but at my children's young age, they managed to pronounce it Bebe. The name she enjoyed.

I still remember the phone call. Her voice was shaky. I could tell she was holding back tears. "I have cancer." At the young age of 52 my mom passed away, taken away from us too early. I can only imagine if she were still alive today and I would have had to make a phone call to tell her, "Mom, I have Parkinson's Disease." As children whenever we were sick or hurt, we always knew everything would be all right because moms would tell us that it would be. The comfort that our mothers give us is something unique in all the world. Even though my mom is no longer with us, I still get to witness a special bond of motherhood between my wife and our children, and how my mother-in-law is now taking on that role for me.

Many picture angels in the Bible as female characters, but it was pointed out to me that this was a fallacy. I believe that there are no female angels in heaven because they're all here with us -- we just happen to call them mom.

To my mom and grandmother, to my wife and mother-in-law, and to all the moms out there who always tell us it's going be all right,  Happy Mother's Day!

I'm Pat Younts and I Move to Live