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Mountain View News Saturday, May 10, 2025

WALKING SIERRA MADRE -

 The Social Side by Deanne Davis

“They carry us beneath their hearts,

That’s how every new life starts.

The beating of our mother’s heart,

The first sound that we hear.

Love and peace surround us...

And God....is very near.

Your mother, my mother,

And Mary....the mother of….God.” *

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day, a joyful time to get together with family 
and celebrate all the mothers we know. I’m sending a whole bunch of 
Blue Mountain cards to all the moms in our family and I have kept 
some of my best Mother’s Day cards. The words on these are so encouraging, 
so loving, so worth repeating…

“To my mother. We all need someone to believe in us…in who we are 
and in all we can become. Someone to cheer, encourage, comfort and 
guide us…to give us the confidence we need to believe in ourselves and in our potential to reach our dreams. 
Thank you for being my someone. May you know how much your love and support mean to me and always will.”

“Family is love and laughter, strength and smiles, hope and happiness. Every Mother’s Day is a gift – a chance to 
go back through the memories of the heart and say thank you; for a home that was warm and welcoming and 
filled with life and laughter – where every day seemed to hold some small adventure and something new to learn. 
For a family that loves being together – cares for each other and helps one another through all the big and little 
ups and downs of life, for a connection that gives meaning, purpose and joy to every day.”

I think the best essay ever about mothers was written by Erma Bombeck around 1974. I share this with you each 
year as I think it’s just the perfect thing to say on Mother’s Day.

“When the Good Lord was creating mothers, He was into His sixth day of “overtime” when one of His angels 
appeared and said, “You’re doing a lot of fiddling around on this one.”

 And God said, “Have you read the specs on this order?” She has to be completely washable, but

not plastic. Have 180 moveable parts…all replaceable. Run on black coffee and leftovers. Have

a lap that disappears when she stands up. A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a

disappointed love affair. And six pairs of hands.” 

The angel shook her head slowly and said, “Six pairs of hands…. no way.” “It’s not the hands that are causing me 
problems,” God remarked, “it’s the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have.” “That’s on the standard model?” 
asked the angel. God nodded. “One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, ‘What are you kids doing 
in there?’ when she already knows. Another here in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn’t but what she 
has to know, and, of course, the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say, ‘I understand 
and I love you’ without so much as uttering a word.”

“God,” said the angel touching his sleeve gently, “Get some rest and look at it again tomorrow….” “I can’t,” said 
God, “I’m so close to creating something so close to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she is 
sick…can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger…and can get a nine-year-old to stand under a shower.”

The angel circled the model of a mother very slowly. “It’s too soft,” she sighed.

“But tough!” said God excitedly. “You can’t imagine what this mother can do or endure.”

“Can it think?”

“Not only can it think, but it can reason and compromise,” said the Creator.

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek.

“There’s a leak,” she pronounced. “I told You that You were trying to put too much into this

model.”

“It’s not a leak,” said the Lord, “It’s a tear.”

“What’s it for?”

“It’s for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness, and pride.”

“You are a genius,” said the angel.

Somberly, God said, “I didn’t put it there.””

― Erma Bombeck, When God Created Mothers

I’m wishing each of you a Happy Mother’s Day. Make phone calls, send a beautiful bouquet, send texts, and say I 
love you! Say it a lot! May God bless all the mothers we know.

The picture this week is just some flowers I saw. I invite you to imagine a picture of your mother in that spot.

“A mother is a person who, seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people,

 promptly announces she never did care for pie.” Tenneva Jordan

*Lyrics from “Your Mother, My Mother” – Star of Wonder – A Christmas Musical

Book & Lyrics by Deanne Davis, Music by David Wheatley.

My book page: Amazon.com: Deanne Davis

Where you’ll find the Emma Gainsworth Kindle novelettes, 

Along with other goodies like “A Treasure Map, A Drunken Owl

And 47 Rattlers in A Bag” True Tales of Early California

MOTHER'S DAY LETTER FROM.....

Tomorrow is Mother's Day. That's no secret. I'm not revealing any 
tradecraft or secret intelligence. In fact, we seem to do our very best 
to acknowledge the "giver of life" and the child's 1st teacher.

As a coach however, I tend to look at things through that lens, and 
from that perspective our Mother are loosing 364 to 1. 

364 days of putting the family's needs above there own.

364 days of balancing family, profession, and relationships

364 days of reminding (at least in my world) us of important events, 
advising and analysing the complexities of every day living.

364 days of worrying if her family's needs are being met.

364 days of being the family's largest and most consistent support 
system.

364 days of an amazing display of patience, resilience, and dedication 
vs. 1 day of flowers, a card and if they are lucky a special meal.

I think the reason the score is so lopsided is there simply is no way 
to thank the women who mean so much to all of us. 

Happy Mothers Day to all of the Moms, and those that take on 
motherly responsibilities for 364 days each and every year.

Coach Fred

MY MOTHER’S ULTIMATUM

TOM PURCELL


I’m 63 and still single, but my mother has 

never given up hope that she will get me 
married.

“What about that nice young lady who cuts 
my hair?”

“Ma,” I tell her, “I’m old enough to be her 
father.”

“What about the community director at my 
apartment complex?”

“Ma,” I say, “she’s old enough to be my mother!”

“You’re too picky!” she says.

She is right. I had no small number of opportunities with some very 
lovely ladies, but I just panicked at the thought of marriage.

Exactly 20 years ago, when I was 43, she’d had enough of that!

“You have six months to marry or else!” she said out of the blue one day.

I couldn’t fault her for her concern. She knows single men can be knuckleheads 
— that we don’t always take care of ourselves the way we should.

The statistics bear it out. Married men are physically and emotionally 
healthier. They avoid risky behavior. They live longer. They earn more.

Even Mark Twain, a great critic of humankind, found happiness in marriage. 
He said, “No man or woman really knows what perfect love is until 
they have been married a quarter of a century.” That kind of deep closeness 
is what I’ve always longed for.

But my mother wasn’t interested in longings. She was interested in results.

“You have five months, one week, four days, two hours and 12 minutes 
to get married!”

“Ma,” I said, “it’s complicated. The world’s not like it used to be. People 
don’t stay together like they once did.”

“You have four months, two weeks, six days, 12 hours and three minutes!”

“But more people are getting married in their 40s and 50s!”

“You have three months, three weeks, five days, 18 hours and 12 minutes!”

I tried another route: “Fewer people marry at all,” I said. “In 1970, nearly 
80 percent of adults between 20 and 54 were married. In 2005 it’s 57 percent.” 
(In 2025, it’s down to 50 percent.)

“You have two months, two weeks, six days, seven hours and 18 minutes!”

I tried to explain to her that Brad Wilcox, who still runs the National 
Marriage Project, said in 2005 that we’ve all become too individualistic 
— we expect too much emotional fulfillment from one person.

“You have one month, three weeks, three days, four hours and 27 
minutes!”

“But, ma,” I continued, “Wilcox is on to something. Everyone these days 
is looking for a soul mate — that perfect person who will make him or 
her feel warm and fuzzy all the time. But no one person can ever live up 
to our ideals and so we stay single.”

“You have two weeks, four days, 12 hours and 18 minutes!”

Finally, I said, “Ma, I’ve been looking for someone like you. You’re the 
most honest, caring, compassionate woman I’ve ever known. You taught 
me what matters — laughter, honesty, beauty. You set the bar so high 
that—”

“Put a sock in it,” she said. “You have one day, two hours and 24 minutes 
to get married!”

Alas, her ultimatum came 20 years ago and I failed to live up to it. My 
mother will never give up on me — which is why I sense I’ll be getting a 
phone call soon.


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