This is an open forum day on Virtual Mirage. You can discuss your mother (or birthing person if that makes you feel better) or anything else.

My mother was a ballerina who danced under the name Venita Louise at the American Ballet Company in New York City and Sadler Wells in London. She met my father in Washington, DC, and became pregnant with me, ending her dancing career. She gave birth to two boys and then two girls. I remain as does my sister who is a hospital administrator in Oregon. I was raised by my paternal grandmother, who I called “Mom” and was a mother to me in every way that counted.

The day before my brother died in an auto accident in 1984, he asked me to be nice to my mother. I said that I would. And since that day I have made a concerted effort to do that. This year it’s an overpriced brunch at the BBC in Orange County, CA with Mother and MRSLL — flowers, chamber music, on the seashore. I try to be a proper son all year, letters, phone calls, etc.

A promise is a promise. I was very close to my brother.



  1. My mother was a registered nurse who ran a 50 bed nursing home with kindness and compassion. She raised six sons of her own, plus two boys and two girls of my dads brother and partner in a large dairy farm, after his wife died unexpectedly. We never had enough of anything except milk, but I never heard her complain. She lived to be 89 years old and was a jewel. She was proud of all of sons and husband, and told us so every chance she got. I miss her.

  2. I just erased a long description of my mom, a former nightclub singer in Detroit during the war.
    My older sister Joan raised me. I stayed in her and her husband’s apartment or house on weekends and for summers. I was an older brother to my nieces and nephews. Joan passed last year.
    My mom and I had reconciled during the last few years of her life. We had both converted to Christianity and that had led to the reconciliation.
    She had moved to Vivian Louisiana and Jim Curtiss and I think his parents and my mom knew each other. I visited her and her fifth husband (a good guy) there a year before her death.
    She was dying in a hospital there when a friend stopped by my work station one night and asked if I had talked to her recently. I said no, and he offered to oversee my line. We were the only two that could.
    I called her, we talked for a few minutes and she had to stop talking for being out of breath.
    She had smoked one too many cigarettes.
    I learned in the middle of the night that I was the last person to talk to her.
    I am thankful for that memory.

    • I can relate, Ed. My mom’s parents were well off, and she grew up the older sister of a favorite son. She came of age during WWII when the world of women changed forever. She was ambitious and driven. She and my dad divorced when I was 8. I was an only child. About the middle of my high school freshman year, she developed a cough she couldn’t shake. Went to see her doc. He sent her to see specialists at UC Davis. They told her she had lung cancer, and six months to live. They were right. She smoked every day I knew her. Sad to say, when I heard that she had passed in the hospital, my first emotion was relief. I was free, finally.

      My wife and I raised our three kids. Made a vow to myself that what had happened to me would not happen to my kids. My wife is a MOM, and now a GRANDMOM. Mom is just WOW spelled upside down. Now pardon me while I get dressed. We are off to the brunch of her choice.

  3. Kipling said it best.

    If I were hanged on the highest hill,
    Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!
    I know whose love would follow me still,
    Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!

    If I were drowned in the deepest sea,
    Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!
    I know whose tears would come down to me,
    Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!

    If I were damned of body and soul,
    I know whose prayers would make me whole,
    Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!

    • Washington, DC– The NSA announced Friday in a closed-door meeting with the House Homeland Security Committee that the agency once again expects to be overwhelmed by the email, text, and telephone traffic on ‘Birthing Person Day’ this Weekend.

      Taking time out of the Homeland Security Committee’s Jan 6th Kabuki Theater, N.S.A. director General Paul Nakasone told the committee that tracking of over 110 million text messages and emails will tax our limits of capacity for information gathering on Americans, adding to the agency’s normal heavy load of domestic taps”.

      While General Nakasone added, “while the amount of traffic intercepted may fall short of the 130 million ‘Birthing Persons Sexual Partner’s Day’ messages collected by the N.S.A. last June during the pandemic, the NSA still has a backlog of unread messages to be read.”

      He added, “we also collected in the neighborhood of two to three million such e-mails from angry Birthing Persons last year who failed to hear from their children.”

      The director stated while the agency had not foiled any terror plots in their info gathering lately, they did uncover between twenty and thirty thousand extramarital relationships.

  4. My siblings and I were extremely fortunate to have a mother who decided her role then did it supremely well, without complaint. God has her now, reunited with my dad and her husband who she lost way too soon yet persevered to make a new life for herself, which she did in spades until the mind disease took over. She had a strong faith as a source of her strength. She made the best chocolate chip cookies. Mostly I miss her manner.

    Brother sent this earlier, “ THIS is what we have lost…as a society…culture and nation…”:

  5. According to Chuck Norris he was also trapped in a womens body. Until he was born.

    But May 8 is also the date the Germans gave up and WW2 in Europe ended.

    • Good one. If Chuck Norris were to travel to an alternate dimension in which there was another Chuck Norris and they both fought, they would both win. – If you spell Chuck Norris in Scrabble, you win. Forever. – Chuck Norris does not own a stove, oven, or microwave, because revenge is a dish best served cold. – Thank you very much, I’ll be here all week.

  6. My Mom; Apple pie, chewy oatmeal coconut cookies, strawberry jam from berries we picked. German chocolate cake. Stroganoff and Lasagna. She paid for 7 yrs of piano lessons, took me to practice and games of all three major sports. She was a nurse on the floor and the ER at the local hospital, then a director of nurses at a nursing home. I went out on my own at 17. She never stopped writing and making vacation plans to see me and my family when possible. She’s 85 and still someone I can appreciate. We’ve raised our kids and have 9 grandkids of our own. My Mom remembers who I am, but not much more. She’s been supportive our my wildest endeavors. She raised me to be free to adventure. She’s traveled the world and taught me by example so much. We are very different in many ways, but love and perseverance remain the same. Thanks Larry for prompting a recall of the good and noble.

  7. Chuck Norris and Superman had a fight ,Loser had to wear his Underwear over his Pants !
    As I used to tell my Dad (a First Sgt in the USAF) and My friends Dad ( A command Sgt Major in the Army)
    Happy Mothers Day ,as I knew the had been called that before.

    • Sergeants and Chief Petty Officers make good mothers. I don’t know how things are today with the new celebration of homosexuality and transexual delight in the diversity navy, but young seamen (sea people now) soldiers and Marines far from home often sought advice from their NCOs, who have always been the backbone of every army and navy in history.

  8. My mom ran two departments at Montgomery Wards – the household appliances department and the paint department. This was back in the day just after WWII when only men ran departments. Yet she happily gave that up to marry and raise a family on a small farm.
    Great cook, great with (and raising) children, very effective at managing money.
    She passed away at age 88, from the long term effects of congestive heart failure.
    If it hadn’t been for that heart problem I expect she would still be going strong today.

    • My grandmother/mom lived to be 96. She immigrated from Switzerland as a child and we spoke German and English at home. I’m no longer a “native” German speaker, but I can slip into German and other languages easily. (My grandfather Lambert spoke fluent Spanish) She was an iron woman, very tough, very old school, born at the turn of the Century. She lived from the days of horse and buggy through the Space Shuttle and the computer age.

      Her ship arrived in New York at the same time as the Titanic survivors arrived on the Carpathia.

      • My mom took a horse and buggy to get to school, and my dad farmed with horses when he first started up. Starting with that, and living to see moon landings and computers would have been quite a mental journey.

  9. We all grew up with different ‘experiences’ with our parents. I was lucky as far as I’m concerned. My mother gave up a lot to raise me after my father died when I was nine. I’m always sad that she never got to see me become an officer, having died while I was in OCS, and I never got to say goodby.

    • I’m sure that there was a proud mother on the other side seeing you get your commission. God loves Mustangs.

  10. My mother did tell the six of us; “you need learn how to feed yourself and clean up after yourselves. As obnoxious as you boys are, you will never attract a mate!” We all proved her wrong!

  11. Well, my mother was a hard woman to please and after a while I just saddled up and did whatever suited myself. She had a very tough life before she married Daddy pre-WWII, and none too easy afterwards, so I made allowances for it, but in all honesty, she was the type if you were not inclined to follow her program, you would By God become so inclined before it was over and I’m certain that was the only way she survived her upbringing. Just the way it was, you understand.

    During WWII, whilst my squid father was off on a government sponsored tour of the sunny, South Pacific, my mother got a job in an ammunition plant and poured liquid TNT into shell casings. The fumes ate her lungs up and in later years, bronchitis nearly killed her a time or two. Nowadays some shyster lawyer would sue the bejabbers out of everyone but in those days, you shook it off and carried on. There was a war on, you know. After that, they moved her to a different part of the plant where she loaded projectiles into 20-mm ammunition and later screwed fuse assemblies into hand grenades. I asked her what training they gave her for that, and the description was more-or-less “righty-tighty”. Driving home from the plant in a winter storm one night, the car ahead spun out on the ice and she T-boned it with Dad’s pride and joy, a ’40 Mercury. Dad was very particular about his cars and being about the only human on the planet who could buffalo her, Mother was scared to tell him and swore the rest of the family to secrecy. She haunted wrecking yards until she got enough parts together to repair the damage. Daddy was home from the war over a year before somebody ratted her out. I was told it was epic……

    Like I said, a hard woman for whom nothing in life came easy but she – and Daddy – made me into whatever I am today, and I’m grateful. Many thanks, Bobbie, I miss you.

  12. Mother’s Day story with a twist. My paternal grandmother was a close friend with Ed Johnson, who was at various times Governor and US Senator from Colorado. Grandmother was driving to Denver and received a speeding ticket. The State Patrolman was “badge heavy” and rude. She continued and drove to the Capitol building where she stormed into Johnson’s office. The conversation went something like, “Well, Louise, do you want me to fix the ticket?”
    “Hell no!”, was the response. “I earned that ticket. I want you to fix that Patrolman”. And it came to pass.

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