By Clyde Noel

A Side of Clyde

Congress passed a Joint Resolution May 8, 1914, designating the second Sunday in May as Mother’s Day. My mother was born before Congress ever recognized how important a mother can be to her children, or how valuable the information on life experience she passes on is.

Other than, “don’t swallow that watermelon seed, it will grow in your stomach,” “don’t pick your nose, your finger will turn black,” “and don’t suck your thumb, there’s a nail in it,” everything my mother said has come true.

My mother taught me how to become an adult. “If you don’t eat your vegetables, you’ll never grow up.”

My mother taught me religion. “You better pray that spot will come out of the sofa.”

My mother taught me about heredity. “Do you think you were born in a barn?”

My mother taught me about irony. “Keep laughing at me and I’ll give you something to cry about.”

We didn’t have television as I grew up so we listened to the radio every Sunday evening in the living room and I still remember her saying, “Don’t sit so close to the radio - you’ll grow deaf.” The only way you could appreciate the Chase and Sanborn Hour with Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy was sitting right up in front of the big brown box.

My mother had a fixation about ears. I can still hear her yelling through the door, “If you don’t keep ‘em clean, corn’s going to grow in them.”

I remember our first washing machine. It manipulated the clothes by electricity, but we had to turn the wringer by hand. That early washing machine would look comical to anyone today, but it’s where my mother taught me discipline.

There were no electrical dryers, so I had to carry the baskets to the clotheslines in the back yard when I was disciplined. Hanging up sheets always took two people and someone had to hold the clothespins. It was embarrassing for a young boy to be seen hanging up the wash.

My mother taught me about strategy. “Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you’re in an accident.”

I was really confused about mother’s logic. “Wait an hour after you eat before you go swimming,” she would say, but you were popped in the tub right after supper.

So here I am, a couple of decades later and most of what my mother said has come true. I’m a little nearsighted, I need glasses and sometimes I’m hard of hearing, but other than that I survived because of her.

If your mother is still alive, take care to shower her with special attention this Mother’s Day. Visit her. Phone her. Send her a card. Give her flowers. Buy her something you know she’s been wanting. Don’t wait until her funeral to let her know how much you’ve appreciated her!

Mine’s been gone more than 20 years and I’d love to tell her how much I appreciated what she did for me.

Thanks, Mom. I’ll wear my white carnation proudly.

Clyde Noel is a longtime contributor to the Town Crier.