In honor of Mothers

Fridge Philosophy focuses on the moms who support us

May 10, 2024

woman in black shirt sitting beside man in white t-shirt — Photo by Hillshire Farm on Unsplash

Note: Since 2018, I have placed these short quotes on our refrigerator at home to provide subtle hints for successful, thoughtful, and purposeful practices in hopes my teens would internalize them. Along the way, I found them helpful in my own life.

Today (Friday), I’ll be celebrating Mother’s Day with mom. She’s in town for my daughter’s final dance show and I took the day off for a getaway and lunch.

I know the biggest gift will not be the lunch or anything she unwraps. For a mother, it is spending that time with her son, the baby she birthed, the boy she raised, the young man she nurtured, and the grown man and father he has become.

A mother’s love is always there and, in these days, when I’m pushing 50 years old and when she is in her 80s, I know that it is not to be taken for granted. For so many years, we spent time together on car rides to and from school, running errands, and more. Now, it’s a standing FaceTime on Sunday afternoons. We update each other on what’s happening in our lives, sometimes reminisce about the past, and maybe share plans for a future in-person meeting. But it’s not the quiet mundane times that were so boring at the time, but now we secretly wish we could have back.

I read a stat that 90 percent of the time we spend with parents is from ages 0-18. Think about all of the family dinners, vacations, sitting around playing a board game or watching television, shopping for groceries, and that time in the car. When you leave to set out on your own, that constant presence is gone. As kids, we don’t notice. After all, the excitement and uncertainty of venturing into adulthood can be overwhelming on its own.

A rite of passage is something we all move through, but we never think about that room we just left. And standing at the doorway watching you step through the threshhold with a tear in her eye is mom. She knows you’ll never be back, not in the same way.

Our final child is at the doorway, ready to step through. It’s tough for me that she’ll be gone, but I know for her mother, it’s harder. Watching the baby you birthed, held during its first breaths, fed from your own body, raised and fed, and helped guide through childhood and adolescence is moving on. The feeling is that our kids don’t need us anymore.

But we do. We need our mothers love.

And they need ours.

Happy Mother’s Day

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Side of Mustard: Media Hits

In the process of promoting Lose Yourself, I’ve had the great pleasure to speak to a lot of folks who have read the book, enjoyed it and wanted to talk about it. Here is a sampling. I’ve also added a section to the Substack dedicated to media appearances.