William Woodworth Little and His Mom, circa 1915

OH NO!  I JUST REALIZED THAT TODAY IS NOT MAY 12 AFTER ALL! THAT’S WHAT COMES OF GOING ON SABBATICAL.  I THINK I’LL RECYCLE THIS VERY BLOG IN 2019 WHEN MOTHER’S DAY DOES, INDEED, COME ON MAY 12!  SIGNED, ADDLED IN OYSTERVILLE.

Today is Mother’s Day and, also, was the date of my father’s birth in 1909. Since birthdays are on fixed dates and Mother’s Day is one of those ‘floating’ holidays, the two celebrations only converged periodically. My math skills aren’t good enough to figure out how often. However, until he was five, he had the day all to himself.

It wasn’t until 1914 that President Woodrow Wilson declared that the second Sunday in May should be a national holiday to honor mothers. From that time forward, Dad occasionally had to share the day with his own mother and, after my birth, with my mother.

Mom, Dad, Sydney – May 12, 1940

I always thought he got the short end of the stick on the years that May 12th fell on that second Sunday. Not only did he send his own mother (in far-off Boston) a remembrance, but he also saw to it that my mother got flowers (from me when I was too young to manage the tradition by myself) and, invariably took everyone out for a ‘Mother’s Day Dinner.’ The focus was only on him on the off-years when he had the date all to himself.

Jean Maries On Our East Fence

According to the Perpetual Calendar (doncha just LOVE the world wide web?), May 12th fell on the second Sunday in 1918, 1929, 1935, 1940, 1946, 1957, 1963, 1968, 1974, 1985, and 1991 – eleven times during dad’s eighty-two years and eight times that I can remember.

These days we mark the 12th of May by another measure. It is usually the time when the Jean Marie rhododendrons along our east fence are at their full height of glory.  Dad planted those rhodies knowing that they would be a forever reminder of his special day. And it’s even more special when the women in his family get to share the honors!