Gayle Kabaker is a painter, writer, teacher and visual storyteller
I wrote Motherless Mother’s Day eight years ago and pitched it to numerous magazines as an illustrated story. I honestly can’t remember how many rejected it - but the important thing is that one person loved it. Edith Zimmerman was an editor on Medium back in the days when they paid for articles. (no idea if they still do) Having this first piece published made me feel like I could call myself a writer, and it gave me much more confidence in my writing. I’d been a terrible student in school, and was very self conscious of my bad spelling and grammar. Turns out - this is what editors are for! But Edith barely changed anything in this story. I’ve updated a few of the images but the text is the same. Motherless Mother’s Day.
Mother’s Day can be a loaded holiday for those of us without moms. On this day every year, I am extra aware of not having had a mom for a really long time. She was 48 and I was 23 when she died. She was 26 when I was born. I’ve had 36 Mother’s Days without her. For 29 of these years I’ve been a mother myself.
I looked at my 23-year-old son recently and had an epiphany, saying, “I was exactly your age when my mom died. Can you imagine?” (Wow, way to be a downer.) He responded with a hug, and said, “I’d be lost without you, Mom.” My choice to be vegan, to exercise — really, to do everything I can to be healthy — is in part simply so my kids get to have (healthy) me around for as long as possible.
I see my friends beginning to lose parents who are in their 80s and 90s. I know it’s still hard and very sad — but I think to myself…wow you had her for 40 more years than I had mine. Lucky you! My sister, daughter, and a few girlfriends do a great job of being excited about the stuff I imagine only a mom could be enthusiastic about. Like the photo of my newly cleaned, alphabetized spice drawer.
My memories tied to my mom are extra strong around scent. I remember the time a few years ago when I was in my car, stopped behind a yellow school bus, and while looking at the back of the bus, I actually smelled the inside of my grade school lunchbox. That smell of a tuna fish sandwich, Frito corn ships, and cookies (probably Chips Ahoy) was so strong it was like the meal was sitting there in the passenger seat! She made my lunch for way more years than she probably should have — but I loved it. Gardenias, Shalimar perfume, and brownies baking all take me right to her.
When your mom dies young, you get to kinda turn her into a saint. Of course she would have been the BEST grandma, the super helpful, generous, loving, supportive mom. When I was in second grade, I was a frog in a school play. I had to hop across a pond that was made of paper. I slipped and fell and was so mortified that I fled crying from the room. Mom came outside after me, and I honestly cannot remember what she did. I’d like to think we just bailed on the stupid play and she took me out for ice cream. Yeah. That’s what happened. She took me to Baskin Robbins for a Jamaica Almond Fudge cone. Double dip.
At the beginning of the pandemic I wrote and illustrated an eight part series/column for the Washington Post called Sketching My Way Through Crisis. Thanks to my friend Suzette Moyer who was then an AD there, who responded to a late night text with the idea from me with - “ great idea!” and set up a meeting. It was an incredible experience where I felt like I was in a master class for one with the editor. Sometimes she took out what I considered the heart of the story! But I learned to trust her and she always made them better. The drawings and paintings were easy, but the writing?! That took me forever, and it was really hard. I was looking at past emails during this time and found this from a woman in Canada. ”I wanted you to know about one person way off in Canada, who read your article, and how it helped make a difference in their life. Sometimes we make a positive difference in someone else’s life and we never hear about it. I wanted to let you know how you inspired me and to say “Thank You.” Such an important reminder to me to reach out to people when something someone made or said moves me. Remembering to always say thank you, speak that compliment in my head when I am thinking it, and just go that little extra bit to be thoughtful. For those of you moms who are alone on Sunday, or don’t have moms, or have moms you don’t speak to, or any of the other ways in which Mothers Day can be loaded? I get it.
A few spots are left for my Lelend, Michigan workshop on August 17 Jennifer Orkin Lewis and I have only a few spots left for Morocco, Feb.6, 2027 Jennifer and I have such fun in our Patreon one hour meetups twice a month. Want to hang with us - and draw, paint, chat about life, movies, books and who knows what else? Plus you hear about our weeklong workshops first and we have some amazing new workshops for 2027 to announce very soon! Need a last minute Mother’s Day gift? A gift certificate with me for a painting or a print could be the perfect special gift for the mom who has everything. Write to me today if you’re interested. As always, I love hearing from you! XO Gayle You're currently a free subscriber to Paint What You Love. For the full experience, upgrade your subscription.
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