Left: Scene from 1948 film, “I Remember Mama.” Right: me, my twin, and our Mom, circa 1957.
Those of us of a certain age will remember the film I Remember Mama, which honors the quiet strength and selflessness of Mama (played by Irene Dunne), who makes countless, often unseen sacrifices for her family. I first watched that movie with my own mother when my twin sister, Sue, and I were home sick. Whatever else my mother had to do that day didn’t matter. She sat by our bedside, and we watched together. We cried through scene after scene in which Mama defers her needs so her children can have opportunities, comforts, or peace of mind.
As this Mother's Day approaches, I find myself thinking about how often my own mother did the same for me and Sue. One particular holiday season comes to mind. We announced—at the last minute—that we were going to be in the school Christmas concert the next day and needed to wear white blouses and dark skirts. Except…we didn’t have dark skirts. The stores were closed, and even if they had been open, we wouldn’t have had the money to buy something so frivolous.
“Don’t worry,” my mother said. “You’ll be fine.”
That night, she took one of her favorite dresses—a navy sheath made of blue shantung silk—and transformed it into two perfectly tailored, full skirts for her eight-year-old twins. She was a master at sewing. I don’t remember the concert, but I remember waking in the middle of the night and seeing her by the light of a table lamp, quietly stitching the hem of one of the skirts.
That image stays with me—the small, luminous acts of love that define a mother’s devotion. I miss her every day.
Do you have a favorite story about your mother? I’d love to hear it.
Sometimes the simplest memories are the ones that stay with us forever.
