My Mother's Birthday
Title
My Mother's Birthday
Creator
Jacob Schlitt
Description
"Today is November 3, 2008. Since my mother was born on November 3, 1888, this would be her 120th birthday. "
Date
2008-11-03
Format
application/pdf
Type
text
Language
en
Identifier
My_Mother's_Birthday
Text
My Mother’s Birthday
Today is November 3, 2008. Since my mother was born on November 3, 1888, this would be her 120th birthday. In keeping with the tradition "biz a hundert un tsvansik," today is therefore really special. However, not only didn’t my mother live to 120, she didn’t make it to 70—three score and ten. Or to 65, so she could collect Social Security. She really looked forward to collecting her social security check and her union pension. To have worked all her life and to finally get a pension… She looked forward to traveling again, and going to Israel. It was not to be. So now, the other date that I carry with me is March 12, 1951. Jewish tradition places greater emphasis on the anniversary of a death (Yahrtzeit) than the anniversary of a birth (gebortstag.) But I have always made a big deal out of birthdays. I must have gotten my sense of the importance of birthdays from my mother.
Right now, I want to think back on how my mother and I celebrated birthdays: I suspect that my 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th birthdays were celebrated by my mother by taking me to the neighborhood photography studio and having my picture taken. After my 4th birthday, it was clear that there wasn't money for such frivolity. There are no more birthday photographs.
But were there parties? I don't remember any. Not for me and not for my mother. There were birthday cards, (My cousin Ruth sent me a card on my birthday every year until she died, and then her husband Arthur continued the tradition.) I assume I either made or bought a card for my mother, and when I started to work, I would buy a small gift—a box of candy or a pair of stockings.
Equally important to my mother’s birthday was Mother's Day. I remember taking a small panel of wood about a quarter inch thick and three inches by five inches, which I must have picked up in wood shop in junior high school. I sanded it and drew a picture in colored pencil and wrote Happy Mother's Day in fancy lettering. My mother treasured that as if it was an expensive piece of jewelry.
I don't remember ice cream and cake. I know we did have cake from time to time, but was it bought to celebrate a birthday, and were candles put on the cake? I doubt it. The fact is, I don’t remember any of my friends having birthday parties. The special occasions were Bar Mitzvahs, and graduations. For my Bar Mitzvah and graduations, my mother somehow found the money to celebrate them. I recently wrote about the fact that my mother would buy new clothes for me (or make new clothes for herself) in connection with Pesach and Rosh Hashanah. I might add birthdays. I am sure that my mother would get a new article of clothing for my birthday, and would most likely make a special meal.
I am finally beginning to realize the truth of my mother’s repeated lament: "Mein leybn iz azoy shver!" My life is so very hard. Being in pain was hard; walking was hard; working was hard; not working was hard; being poor was hard; being without friends was hard; being limited in her ability to write and to express herself was hard. And having a son who was oblivious to all of this was especially hard.
The first week of November has taken on added significance, for in addition to my mother's birthday on November 3rd, David was born on November 4, and Fran was born on November 6. Some week!
So as I sit here, thinking about the fact that today is exactly 120 years after my mother was born, I realize that the world is a very different place from the one she was born into; that she was a remarkable woman who overcame great odds; that perhaps if she had had proper medical care, she would have lived a longer life, and would have been able to know and love her grandchildren; and that she might have been able to fulfill her dream of visiting Israel. And I might have been able to more adequately express my love, and my indebtedness to her.
Today is November 3, 2008. Since my mother was born on November 3, 1888, this would be her 120th birthday. In keeping with the tradition "biz a hundert un tsvansik," today is therefore really special. However, not only didn’t my mother live to 120, she didn’t make it to 70—three score and ten. Or to 65, so she could collect Social Security. She really looked forward to collecting her social security check and her union pension. To have worked all her life and to finally get a pension… She looked forward to traveling again, and going to Israel. It was not to be. So now, the other date that I carry with me is March 12, 1951. Jewish tradition places greater emphasis on the anniversary of a death (Yahrtzeit) than the anniversary of a birth (gebortstag.) But I have always made a big deal out of birthdays. I must have gotten my sense of the importance of birthdays from my mother.
Right now, I want to think back on how my mother and I celebrated birthdays: I suspect that my 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th birthdays were celebrated by my mother by taking me to the neighborhood photography studio and having my picture taken. After my 4th birthday, it was clear that there wasn't money for such frivolity. There are no more birthday photographs.
But were there parties? I don't remember any. Not for me and not for my mother. There were birthday cards, (My cousin Ruth sent me a card on my birthday every year until she died, and then her husband Arthur continued the tradition.) I assume I either made or bought a card for my mother, and when I started to work, I would buy a small gift—a box of candy or a pair of stockings.
Equally important to my mother’s birthday was Mother's Day. I remember taking a small panel of wood about a quarter inch thick and three inches by five inches, which I must have picked up in wood shop in junior high school. I sanded it and drew a picture in colored pencil and wrote Happy Mother's Day in fancy lettering. My mother treasured that as if it was an expensive piece of jewelry.
I don't remember ice cream and cake. I know we did have cake from time to time, but was it bought to celebrate a birthday, and were candles put on the cake? I doubt it. The fact is, I don’t remember any of my friends having birthday parties. The special occasions were Bar Mitzvahs, and graduations. For my Bar Mitzvah and graduations, my mother somehow found the money to celebrate them. I recently wrote about the fact that my mother would buy new clothes for me (or make new clothes for herself) in connection with Pesach and Rosh Hashanah. I might add birthdays. I am sure that my mother would get a new article of clothing for my birthday, and would most likely make a special meal.
I am finally beginning to realize the truth of my mother’s repeated lament: "Mein leybn iz azoy shver!" My life is so very hard. Being in pain was hard; walking was hard; working was hard; not working was hard; being poor was hard; being without friends was hard; being limited in her ability to write and to express herself was hard. And having a son who was oblivious to all of this was especially hard.
The first week of November has taken on added significance, for in addition to my mother's birthday on November 3rd, David was born on November 4, and Fran was born on November 6. Some week!
So as I sit here, thinking about the fact that today is exactly 120 years after my mother was born, I realize that the world is a very different place from the one she was born into; that she was a remarkable woman who overcame great odds; that perhaps if she had had proper medical care, she would have lived a longer life, and would have been able to know and love her grandchildren; and that she might have been able to fulfill her dream of visiting Israel. And I might have been able to more adequately express my love, and my indebtedness to her.
Original Format
application/msword
Collection
Citation
Jacob Schlitt, “My Mother's Birthday,” Autobiographical stories & other writing by Jacob Schlitt, accessed April 29, 2024, https://tsirlson.omeka.net/items/show/75.