Trombetti: To all the women who act like mothers, a big thank-you hug

Article content

The earliest memories I can recall of missing my mother happened repeatedly on Saturday nights, when I was about three years old. Saturday was when she and my father attended dinner and dance celebrations organized by the Italian community in Ottawa. They would both get all dolled up. My sisters and I would stay home with a sitter.

At that tender age, I decided that Saturday was the worst day of the week. Sure, my older sisters were off school and could play with me; we had time for a leisurely breakfast; and we visited Nonna and Nonno who were so delighted to see us. But Saturday was the day of abandonment, and my mother would take off dancing with my father and friends.

“What are you doing?” I would ask, as she deftly sat down in the bathroom parlour chair and examined her face in the mirror. “Nothing, Bella,” she would respond quickly as she lined her lips and brushed her shiny bouffant hairstyle. She was nonchalant, but I was not going to be had. The traitorous spray of perfume was the last straw. “I know you’re going out!” I would yell at the top of my lungs. “You’re leaving us!”

She would turn gently and smile at me, as good mothers do everywhere, and hug me. “I’ll be back before you know it, Bella. And Mrs. Carson is coming tonight. You’ll be able to colour with her and have some special treats.”

Saturdays were sad, but magically, she always returned.

As we celebrate wonderful moms everywhere, my mother and I laugh at those infantile outbursts and reflect on the many women who have had a hand in growing her three daughters into what we are today.

The reality is that for those few hours my mother was out with my father, Mrs. Carson was indeed a pretty good replacement. She was huggable, forgiving, kind and jolly, always smiling, and she had an inventory of creative activities up her sleeve to keep my mind off the obvious.

When my sisters and I went to Italy to visit relatives, our Aunt Lia was a doppelganger for our mother. Without children of her own, she had a fun, playful side to her, and became our Italian mother and grandmother in one person. We loved visiting her. She listened to all our dreams and fears without judgment, soaked up our worries and was supportive of the young, curious and disciplined women that we would become.

In the workplace, there was always an older woman who would both secretly and overtly encourage me, depending on the situation. Just as there are proverbial “work husbands” and “work wives,” there are definitely work mothers who stand out — figures who looked out for me and ensured I was prepared for the reality of the business world. They will know who they are. Hi moms number four and five!

I have not had the opportunity of becoming a mother. Yet, I am hoping that there are other women and men in my life who feel I have somehow “mothered” them. I hope I have comforted and encouraged them along their journeys and humbly taught them something about the art of living.

The essential ‘mothering’ role of women

Whether biological, adoptive or figurative, women everywhere play an important role in shaping the lives of children, teens and adults and society at large. Hail all the different kinds of mothers in this world: the loving and nurturing; the community leaders and pioneers; the corporate leaders; and those who inspire, encourage and embolden us when our confidence is low.

My mother, Bruna, was not only the soothing woman who regularly ran off to dance with her husband while her three-year-old fretted. She also gave her daughters a boost of courage when the situation warranted it.

Case in point: I had a frightful bout of cold feet in my early 20s about a week prior to leaving for France for my post-graduate education en français, my second language. I had mentioned to my mother that, all things considered, I wasn’t sure that I would actually be successful and maybe I had set too high an objective.

She didn’t bat an eye, looked straight at me and said: “You have been pursuing this goal for over a year. You are leaving next week. You will go, and you will do your best. And if you find you can’t succeed, you will find something else to do over there, even if it is just working. You will not come back here until you have completed something.” For her, I knew that meant getting a Master’s Degree (which I eventually got). But her lesson was to not quit at the first sign of challenge, and she had a way of picking me up off the ground after I had been steamrolled flat like a Looney Tunes character.

Thank you, Mom, and thank you to all the women who have been, are, are becoming, have acted in the place of, or have taken on the role of, the precious mothers in our lives. You have had, and will continue to have, such a positive impact on my and others’ lives. It is the broad sharing of this maternal instinct and love that shapes and moulds us as we grow, and sets us up to live meaningful, full and resilient lives.

Happy Mothers’ Day to all!

Lilia Trombetti is a public servant living in Ottawa.