You've Gotta Know When to Hold 'Em...

Mother's Day a different way.

You’ve gotta know when to hold ‘em…and when to fold ‘em. Or so it's written in the book of Kenny (Rogers, “The Gambler”, 1978).

One of my earliest childhood memories is discovering Sesame Street on a grainy television set in a tiny apartment in Medford, Massachusetts, a short walk from where my dad was studying at the Fletcher School. I was mesmerized by the catchy songs, furry monsters and sense of fun. In the background was my mom, a small town girl from Perak, Malaysia, navigating life in Boston but a few years removed from giving birth to, and raising, an infant in New Delhi, India.

This would be the cadence of my early life - discovering new places, new experiences, and new people with my diplomat parents.

Photo by Diana Polekhina on Unsplash

After Boston came Singapore and a painting of a beach (Bali, or Hawaii, or Tahiti?) on my grandparents living room wall, the rhythmic shadow of a ceiling fan thrumming across its gaudy colored palms, cutting through the tropical humidity. In the background was again my mom, in animated conversation with her parents. Possibly negotiating preK dropoff schedules?

Then, in Washington DC, a knock on the door as I endured the childhood ritual known as chicken pox, a warm maternal smile, a gift of “Monopoly” and a precious memory of a first lesson - time with my parents stolen from my baby brother.

This Sunday is Mother’s Day. For some of you, it will be a happy occasion, an annual ritual of celebration, laughter and happy tears. For others, it will be a time of painful remembrance, of an empty chair, a missing beat in the soundtrack of your life. And for others still it will be a confusing time, as you wrestle with mixed feelings about mixed messages, and what could have, or should have, been.

Wherever you might be, and however you might feel, take time to process over the coming days. You don’t have that many Mother’s Days left. I promise you will have one less by Monday. As you process, I ask you to focus on one thought: give. Whether big or small, frequently or sparingly, recently or a long time ago, your mother gave to you, or she tried her best to. For one day, set aside any complicated feelings you might have, focus on the positive, and give.

This will be easier for some than others. What you give could be a flower, a card or a meal. It might be a kind word, a gentle embrace or a smile. For some it will be enough to hold back and let it go, whatever “it” might be, for a change. You know what I’m talking about.

And before that excuse enters your head: yes, you can. You have done much harder things in life. And so has your mom. We don’t get to choose our parents. But they don’t get to choose us either. Even so, we *all* get to choose how to play the hand we are dealt.

So play yours well. May your Mother’s Day be significant this year in a way that truly matters to you, and her. I wish you honest introspection, courage and peace.

J