In honor of Mother’s Day coming up this Sunday, I thought I
might write about the masters of mind games: our moms, and the roles they play
in our lives. It’s a theme that authors and movie-makers have capitalized on
since man first started telling stories—books like Christine Crawford’s “Mommie
Dearest,” which told of the abuse she suffered from her mother, Hollywood
superstar Joan Crawford. (Ironically,
Crawford played a divorced mother desperate for her child’s love and approval
in “Mildred Pierce,” Warner Bros., 1945.) “Mom” is often a significant
character in fiction as well, for both adults and children.
Then I started thinking about those children’s stories and the
famous moms in children’s literature who are missing, like Bambi’s mother, and Ariel’s
mother (“The Little Mermaid,” Walt Disney Pictures, 1989). Littlefoot’s mother
(“The Land Before Time,” Universal Studios, 1988) actually dies on screen! In
case you forgot, here’s the clip, which, to this day, makes me well up.
I remember watching this and other animated movies when my
children were small, my arms around them, as I waited for the part where I
knew…I KNEW they’d kill off the poor mother. I’d cry out, “Why? Why did you
kill the mother?!” and I’d sob as my children (boys) giggled at my grief. “It’s just a movie, Mommy!” they’d say,
scrambling to escape my ever-tightening clasp.
And that’s not even touching on the dead mothers who are
replaced by wicked stepmothers. Anyone remember poor Hansel and Gretel whose
stepmother banishes them into the woods to be eaten by some witch, who just
happens to eat children!? Then of
course there’s Cinderella, Snow White…
Good grief, it never ends, all these kids’ stories featuring
dead and dying mothers. What’s that about?
It’s about that universal mother connection. As of this
writing, no human (that I know of) has been birthed via an artificial womb. We
all have mothers, whether or not they’re still with us, whether or not we
are/were close, and that universal connection makes for great story-telling.
Mothers evoke the greatest emotions, often conflicting,
because the strongest emotions elicit the most extreme responses : love/hatred,
joy/despair. (If you’re a mother or mother figure and have survived raising
your children through their teen years,
you’ll understand that reference to hatred <grin>.)
References to mothers fill our modern-day lexicon: soccer
moms, stage mothers, full-time mom, working mom, mama’s boy, even MILFs!
I don’t believe any of us can separate ourselves from our
mothers on an emotional level. We see them differently as we progress through
life—life-giver, caregiver, pain in the backside, friend maybe, and if we’re
lucky enough to follow them into their elder years, sometimes they become the recipients
of our care. When they pass on (over, away…whatever term of death you prefer),
we all lose something on an emotional level, and possibly even a cellular level.
So I understand the need of the story-teller to bank on that
universal truth, but I really wish Hollywood would take a hiatus from killing
off the moms for a little while. I mean, couldn’t the mom be on a nice, long
extended spa vacation (even if it’s a euphemism for a padded cell)? Wouldn’t it
make an even happier ending for the mom to show up unexpectedly for the wedding
with Prince Charming?
Come on, Hollywood, give moms a break!
____________________________
Leah writes stories of romance and suspense, and the
enduring power of love. She blogs monthly here with her friends at Words,
Women, Wisdom about mind games. Her latest story, Christmas Dance, explores the
mysteries of love, marriage and parenthood.
Visit Leah at www.leahstjames.com.
