Mother's Day: Mom’s the word
By Felix Carroll
An archetypal mother raising children in the 1970s and 1980s, she stayed at home to raise four children. She put dinner on the table. She tied our shoes, bandaged our wounds and cleaned our faces with spit before school. She eventually divorced when the children were grown. She watched three of her four children develop serious medical problems. A grandchild died when he was 2-years-old.
She loves to love. She loves
to laugh. She’s my mother, and she has answers:
Do you think it’s easier or harder to be a mother now than when
you were raising our family?
Hard to say. A lot of extenuating
circumstances. I stayed home. There were people like my sister who worked and
who said I was lucky I could stay home and “watch TV all day.” I could’ve
killed her. I wanted it all to be good, and it was hard work. Now, the moms
have to go to work. That to me, that’s really hard. If you’re trying to do
both, with your heart and soul — which is what you need to do — that’s really
exhausting, and the fathers have to really share the burden now, otherwise it’s
a mess.
Many of today’s parents seem to struggle between
overparenting and the “Spartan” approach — allowing their children a long leash
to work a lot of things out. What do you make of it?
Yeah, the truth is many kids have
only a shred of the freedom we enjoyed growing up and you all enjoyed growing
up. I think that you had a great opportunity to explore on your own and be left
alone and make mistakes and maybe get into a little trouble. And when I was a
kid, my God, we went miles from home. No one knew where we were. But today
we’re so aware there are bad people. There always have been, but now we’re so
aware because it comes flashing at you in the news. A lot of us got lucky that
our kids didn’t come in contact with bad people. It’s a difficult line to draw,
and I’m glad I don’t have to.
What were your most
worrisome times?
Your father’s health. When Jimmy had his asthma problems. A lot of
worrying going on there. Times when one of you was having a hard time in elementary school and
being ostracized. I went down and spied on the situation during recess and
watched it happen. You can’t save your kids from those things. You can only
love them. And when we lost the house.
And when I have to watch my children develop serious health problems. And one
of the most difficult moments was the day you asked me “Can we stop holding
hands?”
How old was I?
Oh, sixteen.
No, really.
Maybe third grade. We were
crossing Mantua Avenue afterschool and approaching the park. We were in the
middle of the street, and you asked me, “Mom, can we stop holding hands now?”
It was your rite of passage. You had a right to ask me. You had your friends to
think about. We didn’t hold hands again.
What were the happiest times?
 |
| The Carroll children get a puppy on Christmas 1974 |
What’s
most important life skill a parent can teach their children?
They should all learn how to cook. Every boy and every girl.
What did your parents
get right? What did they get wrong?
They
stuck together. We always had dinner together, which is very important. And
when my father had a car, we would go on trips. He worked at the telephone
company. He drove the truck home. What did they get wrong? Well, not that she
could have helped it, but my mother wasn’t always there. She was a nurse. Whenever
people we knew would go to the hospital they would come home and tell us what a
great nurse our mother was. Being a mother was really a tough job for her. She
just couldn’t figure it out. Couldn’t
figure it out. My father was a beer drinker. On Fridays, he’d hang out at
Rick’s Bar, and we had to go get him, and that wasn’t good. But they stayed
together.
What are parents getting
wrong today?
Speaking generally, many of
them let their kids talk to them in a way they shouldn’t be allowed to. I
remember my father would never allow us to say the word “What?” If he or my
mother called for us and we answered “What?” Oh boy.
What are parents getting right?
Most parents are really
honed in on education for their kids. I think more parents really love their
kids and show it. I know there are a lot of kids that suffer terribly in this
world, but I see a lot of love, and that’s how the children are going to
survive.
If you could go back and change anything, what would
it be?
I always think, “Did I give
my children enough hugs?” It gnaws at me. It plagues me.
The worst family vacation?
When we went to Florida.
Yep, the “big trip to Disney World.” Ay, ay, ay. [The rest of her answer has
been redacted. It’s a sensitive matter. But look out for my forthcoming book
titled, When Going to Disney World, Bring
Enough Money and How Fathers Shouldn’t
Slap Ice Cream Cones from Their Children’s Hands No Matter What]
What’s one of the most
loving things someone has done for you?
Felix McCabe, my father — the way he showed his love to me. It stays
with me the rest of my life. He was the kind of father who told us stories.
Every Friday he’d bring pretzels home for us. He absolutely lived for us. He
didn’t have much to offer. We didn’t have money. He always worked hard at the
telephone company. When he retired he made that garden and he’d give us all
this food. He grew a lot of stuff, and you could have anything you wanted from
that garden. It made him happy. And he adored my children.
What's the one place
you'd like to visit before you die?
Ireland.
I want to go to the farm where my mother grew up and meet Kieran and his family
and see the farm and see some of the beauty of Ireland and go into a pub and
have a pint.
Remember every Mother's Day and Father's Day when we used to ask you why isn't there a Son's Day and Daughter's Day? I just want to tell you now that you were right: Every day is Son's and Daughter's Day, and we need more Mother's Days, maybe every Saturday.
I won't argue with you.What are you most grateful for?
My
four children. I have to say that because that’s number one. They always love
me and I love them. That’s easy for us, we just love each other. Grandchildren.
All these grandchildren. Each and everyone of them are so special and so good;
they’re good kids.
What do want for Mother’s Day.
Well I
got a new radio because mine broke, so I bought one at Target. Thirty bucks.
The last of its kind. I need nothing. I need a new
car.
It’s best if you talk to Jim and Chris
about that, but in the meantime: Happy Mother's Day!
Felix's Grand Parents back in the Fifties, and his Mom's brother.
ReplyDeleteON PARENTAL INVOLVEMENT
To Become a Boy Scout
His Mom helped him go to a Boy Scout camping trip one time. It was a sweet time between them. He was the most impoverished camper among the group with only an old army blanket and safety pins for a sleeping bag and the only part of the Boy Scout uniform his Mom could afford to get him. Mom and her boy took the El Train all the way down to 8th and Market in Center City, Philadelphia where she bought him the red bandanna with BSA written on it and its clasp.
He felt gifted and wonderful about both of her Scouting contributions. And his father left the bar stool he always sat on at the Five Points Tavern and strode down the avenue with him where the father paid the fifty-cent fee for the boy to become a Boy Scout. That was the only walk they ever took together.
At his first Boy Scout camp, it rained all night and the homemade sleeping bag got so wet the boy had to sit up in the dark tent to try to keep dry. In the morning, the Scout Master had a smoky fire burning nearby that the young boy went to for warmth. The Scout Master, shielding his eyes from the smoke, and speaking in a tetchy voice, sent the boy to a supply cabin on a far-off hillside to fetch a Left-Handed Smoke Switcher. The boy was sent from the cabin to a few other places by Scout adults until, after over an hour, it became obvious to the boy that he was the brunt of pranks.
The boy, still shirking from all the unwanted interest in him, told his frowning Mom about the Left-Handed Smoke Switcher. He saw her tightly folding the red scarf she had washed, and cuffing it, she slipped it into her pocket.
His Mom squeezed the scarf in her pocket but said nothing. The boy never saw the scarf again.
That was parental involvement at a maximum in those times, and I realize sixty years later that parental involvements in the Fifties were richly genuine and they came in small packages. The test of worth is how long they are remembered and why.
THE END