Raising Mums

My mum grew up on a dairy farm in rural Nova Scotia. It was different than the dairy farms of today. My grandfather had grade cows and didn’t worry much about their breeding or production – the cows produced what they produced. That is until my mum, her sisters, and eventually their little brother joined 4-H.

There wasn’t a lot to do in Ardoise in those days. The Davis calves were well handled and cared for, and the children excelled in the 4-H curriculum. Improving production on the farm wasn’t enough to encourage my grandfather to invest in purebred stock but having quality calves for his children to show sure was.

Things haven’t changed much over the years. In this issue of HP, Nicole Kitchener’s story, “How to juggle ALL the balls,” digs into the challenges families have balancing the necessities to accommodate the things in life that make the heart sing. The by-product of the extra effort is the positive impact it has on developing little humans.

Education and good life skills aren’t heavy to carry around. My mum took these experiences provided by her parents with her into adulthood and, lucky for my sister and me, into motherhood.

She recognized the importance of providing her own daughters the experience of learning through doing. And there was a lot to learn. For everyone. Her dad transported the 4-H calves in the back seat of the family car. This practice wasn’t without its downfalls, but certainly less cumbersome than forcing two 700-pound ponies into a big metal box attached to the family car and hitting the road (with Mum praying all the way there, she could park and drive straight through). Determination was Mum’s middle name – she was not about to ask someone to back up her rig.

The horsewomen featured in Nicole’s story have the challenge of teaching “horse sense” to their children. Sometimes roles are reversed. Managing and teaching non-horsey mothers can be just as challenging. As it turns out, ponies do not tie particularly well to car door handles (especially by the reins) or to upright umbrella-style clothesline posts. Picnic tables? Also, a no.

Handling dairy calves, and even cows, had not sufficiently prepared our mum for watching her children jump obstacles and gallop through fields. Resigning herself to it being part of the deal, she watched through the cracks between her fingers, or in other cases not at all, depending on the pony and the situation. We didn’t often have “made” ponies or horses, and we both got pretty good at sticking on through the worst of it. Eventually Mum gave up worrying (or did she?), and our summer days were spent on horseback, riding wherever our sense of adventure took us.

My sister and I were blessed with a rich (in the best sense of the word) rural childhood provided by a mum (and dad) who were fortunate to have had the same. This will be the first Mother’s Day without our mum. She died in February soon after a cancer diagnosis. We are lucky to have our aunts to help fill the gaping hole left in our lives. We all need mothering, even – and maybe especially – when we grow up.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mother figures filling voids, and juggling all the balls.

(In case you’re wondering, the upgraded 4-H calves grew into a purebred Holstein herd. Not only did my grandparents raise great kids with the help of good calves and the 4-H program, they also boosted milk production and subsequently the success of their family farm.)