Mother’s Day

Susan and I made a (much conversed and much considered) childfree choice almost a quarter century ago (though it seems like yesterday!) And yet mother’s day remains an important holiday for me. So today I bid a fond Mother’s Day to my mother, Melissa Weller Davis, and to my late mother-in-law, Shirley Bacot Shamel. (And a hearty hat tip to my bride, Susan, who is indisputably the best dog momma ever!)

Let’s start with an admiring, knowing nod to my own mother who’s been inspiring me for decades. I remember like yesterday the summer days in the late 1970s or early 1980s when that portrait was being painted. My brother and sister and I collected rocks and beach glass along the lakefront, stained our T-shirts with wild blackberries growing between lake and yard, and intermittently drifted back to the patio, where my mother sat slightly self consciously, chatting with the painter.

My mother is a remarkably nimble creative force, always curious, always eager for a new adventure. She always encouraged wonder and wandering, and she has a gift for drawing out the good even in bad actors. Somehow she always knows the right lever to pull at the right time. The quintessential catalyst. A natural leader. The perfect mother when I was a tyke, a teenager, a young adult trying to figure out how to navigate the world, and now that I’m a middle aged man STILL trying to figure out how to navigate the world.

Thank you, mom.

My mother-in-law, Shirley Bacot Shamel, was the second mother to accept the dubious challenge of mothering me. Her love, encouragement, and confidence were intrinsically woven into the first 18-1/2 years that Susan and I spent together. She guided me gently through some of the early mysteries of marriage, and she forever supported our unconventional exploits even when adventures became misadventures. Her love and her reliability were resolute, and we benefited again and again from having her in our corner.

Thank you, Shirley.

I cannot rightfully honor my most revered and impactful mothers without acknowledging my bride. True, Susan and I opted not to have children, but her loving (spoiling?) and hyper attentive mothering of our fur babies blurs the lines between dog ownership and parenting IMHO.

Despite endlessly kidding Susan for mothering… [our dogs], I actually find it endearing. And our almond-eyed-butterscotch-furred best friend is thoroughly content with the arrangement. (Source: Mary Wade’s Rosslyn Rendition)

Back on May 15, 2012 when I shared this daily dispatch, the dog that I was referring to was Griffin. He wasn’t the first dog that we’ve been fortunate to include in our family. Susan already owned Tasha when we met back in 2001, and now our pandemic puppy Carley keeps life interesting and lighthearted. All three Labrador retrievers have been amazing canine companions, and all three have been pivotal personalities in our small family.

“Hello, my love bug. Mama missed you,” Susan greets Griffin when he races up to meet her at the end of the day. His tail wags excitedly and he stretches his head upward, offering a nice slobbery kiss. “How did Mama get such a drooly boy?” she asks playfully as she wipes off her nose and cheek. (Source: Mary Wade’s Rosslyn Rendition)

When I wrote the post from which both of the excerpts above are taken I had “decided it was time to accept my bride’s dog mother instinct… [No,] to embrace it”! That was a dozen years ago, and it’s only become more accepted in our family. Fur baby. Fur mama.

Thank you, Susan!