Celebrating Other Mothers

Lucy with mom and grandmother

 LUCY BURDETTE: John and I went to a tennis event over Mother’s Day weekend with a handful of other couples in the Poconos some years back. I have lovely memories about the weekend, but one thing stuck out--they gave flowers to every woman there. No inquiry as to whether we were biological mothers, as it was assumed (I imagined anyway) that every woman does her share of mothering. In my own life I had a funny, warm mother, but she died when I was in my early twenties. So I had other mothering figures who mattered too. There was a therapist who made a huge difference in helping me understand my history and how it impacted my life. There were teachers who were kind and encouraging. My stepmother treated each kid in my family as if we belonged to her, too. And my dad did his share of mothering after my mother was gone. So that’s the topic for today Reds, a salute to all kinds of mothers. Do tell us about yours!

JENN McKINLAY: I’ve been fortunate to have many motherly figures in my life in addition to my own mom, who is amazing, and my mother-in-law, also amazing. But the one who sticks out is Cay Culberston. She was a transplanted Iowan that I met in Phoenix in 1993 when I began to work for the library system. She had three kids my age (mid-20’s at the time), and she took in my lost expression and folded me and my friend Carole, whose mother had recently passed, right into her family. No hesitation.

We played cards, went to movies, watched the Phoenix Suns, and threw ridiculous parties. She knew every single person who worked for the library as she flitted from department to department, making everyone smile or laugh. When something particularly amused her, she’d pat you on the back so hard the force would knock you forward a few feet. I used to call her butternut, because she had a favorite comfy outfit in the color of a butternut squash. That nickname made her laugh, and she always sent me forward with a hearty thump. It’s been almost nineteen years since she passed, but her words of wisdom are some of my greatest treasures and I’ve passed them on to the Hooligans as needed. And with that legacy, she lives on and is always there just when I need her most.

HALLIE EPHRON: I give my mother complete credit for encouraging me and my three sisters to write. To ignore barriers and barge ahead with supreme confidence. To crack wise and often. As a career woman she was way ahead of her time. But for actual mothering, aka nurturing, I’d never have survived if it hadn’t been for Evelyn Hall and Amelia James Evans, Black women who kept our household stable when it was really anything but. I adored them in what then seemed like an uncomplicated way, not so uncomplicated now, looking back. I’m so grateful.

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Ah, well? I don’t really have any nurturing experiences like that.  My mom was smart and beautiful and always wanted me to have and be the best. Which meant--what she thought was best, which she often told me. And nothing, no matter how good, was ever good enough. She was right about a lot of things, sure, and I often wish I could tell her so. But cozy nurturing enthusiastic approval? Ah, no. 

My mothers-in-law?  The first one was not happy with me because I was not the sort of person she’d imagined her son marrying.  She didn’t really discuss that--or anything--with me.

The second one was not happy with me because I was not the sort of person she’d imagined her son marrying. And she told me about that quite a bit. 

My third mother in law--who was hilarious and brilliant and unpredictable--was not happy with me because she was not happy about anything. Her first words on meeting me: “My, you’re a big one, aren’t you?” 

RHYS BOWEN: my mom was not cozy either although we became close when I grew up. I was raised by my grandmother and great aunt as my mother always worked. Nanny was the one who sat me on her knee and read to me. Blind aunt Sarah ( known as Min to the family) told me stories and played games of pretend with me. I adored them both, also my godmother, Aunt Gwladys who would whisk me off to heady things like restaurants where you sat on cushions or plays or a trip around Italy. 

DEBORAH CROMBIE: My mom always worked, too, and it was my grandmother, "Nanny," who was the "other mother" in my life. She lived with us from the time I was born and I adored her. We read together, planned globe-trotting adventures together. She was always the one who comforted and encouraged me. I'm sure I didn't tell her often enough how special she was!

Reds, please share with us your stories about other mothers in your lives!