WILKES-BARRE — Even though my mother passed away 56 years ago, today is a commemoration of her life.
Mother’s Day is a tribute to all mothers — those fantastic women who gave us life, nurture us, love us, shape us.
My mother definitely embodied all of that for me, and I will always remember her and all she did for me and my father, who incidentally, was the greatest father ever — just like yours.
My mother — Elizabeth Kraszewski O’Boyle — was also my closest friend.
At least for 17 and a half years.
My mother passed away at age 42 on May 10, 1968, the day before Mother’s Day in the year I graduated high school.
It was a difficult time — our family was forever changed.
Not a day has gone by since then that I have not thought about her. I have relied on her every day to guide me through my life. Similarly with my father. They were the two finest people I have ever known and even though they are no longer here, they are still with me every day.
My family consisted of three people — me, Mom and Dad — and between us, we had four good legs and I had two of them. Yet, I was the least productive by far.
My Dad lost his right leg in World War II when he hit a beach in northern France and stepped on a land mine.
My Mom had polio and her left leg was weak and shorter than her right leg, requiring her to wear a leather and steel brace with an elevated shoe.
Discipline was always present in our home and whoever I am today, I attribute to my parents.
But this is about my Mom and your Mom and everybody’s Mom. I wish she were here today so I could tell her how important she is to me — how she taught me so much in such little time.
Mom taught me to value people — all people — no matter their race, ethnicity or religion. She saw the good in people and always emphasized the positive.
That was the core of my Mom — do for others. Help where you can. Make a difference, even if it seems small to you, it’s much bigger to the person you are helping.
It’s those things that have stuck with me over the years.
But when my mother left this world, everything changed for me. Thanks to my father, we got through it.
We got through living a life far less meaningful without my mom in it. But we managed and we bonded.
From on high, my mother has been my cosmic conscience.
Mothers are like that, though too often we don’t always recognize their value. In many cases, sons and daughters don’t truly realize the full extent of a mother’s worth until it’s too late.
Mothers accomplish remarkable feats on a daily basis that we mere mortals admire.
For example, a mother can get her kids off to school after breakfast, make their beds, do the dishes, put in a wash, and fold clothes out of the dryer.
Then she will go to work where she will do her job better than anyone else, find time to do a little shopping at lunchtime, stop at the store on the way home, cook dinner, pay the bills, catch up with a few friends, help with homework, do more dishes, finish the laundry, tidy up the house, take the dog for a walk, go to a soccer or Little League game, drive the neighborhood kids home, get everybody to bed and still have time for a favorite TV show before somehow transforming herself into a seductress for dad as they head off to bed.
And this occurs every day.
I still remember how my mother made noodles from scratch for the best soup I have ever tasted, as well as her pierogies, piggies, kielbasa, scalloped potatoes, roast beef, ham, chicken, and everything else.
She maintained a very clean home, despite putting up with two males who were not as tidy as she was.
My mother taught me nearly everything — to be kind and respectful, to listen and help, and to be genuine, honest, and fair.
I can still hear her calling, “Billy, supper time,” and I would hurry to join her and my father at the dinner table. I recall grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for lunch and ice cream for breakfast. I remember her dressing up and the scent of Jean Nate as she got ready to go out with my dad on a Saturday night. I remember her sitting on our porch while my friends and I played Wiffle Ball or basketball in our backyard.
Every year at this time, I hold onto these memories and honor my mom for who she was and still is to me, and for everything she did for me.
As the Fine Arts Fiesta approaches, I once again think of my mom and her love for art.
My mom’s dream was to one day come face to face with the Mona Lisa — Leonardo da Vinci’s masterpiece that now hangs in the Louvre in Paris.
In 2000, I traveled to Europe and visited the Louvre. It was a trip my mother would have truly enjoyed. So I was a little anxious when I entered the massive museum and started my tour.
And then, as we entered the gallery where the Mona Lisa was, I began to get emotional, realizing that I was about to gaze into the eyes of the world’s most famous painting.
But I was not going to see this beautiful lady alone — I was going to see the Mona Lisa through my mother's eyes.
On that September day, my mom would finally get to see her favorite painting.
I wanted my mom to be there, and in many ways through my DNA and my faith, she was.
Happy Mother’s Day.
