Here's to moms!

Oscar Wilde wrote: "All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That is his." There is no bigger insult to a man than to call him a "momma's boy" and for a husband to tell his wife, in a fit of anger, that "she's turning into her mother" is considered a low blow. When Norman Bates uttered "a boy's best friend is his mother" in Psycho, we all let out a collective horrified gasp and "tell me about your mother" is probably the most popular request made by finger-pointing therapists.

But it's not all bad news… George Eliot wrote: “Life began with waking up and loving my mother’s face”. With Mother’s Day celebrations taking place this coming Sunday, newspapers and magazines are brimming with “suggestions”, (or, as we like to call them, “ads”), with which to show one’s appreciation.

The selection is predictable, commercial and contrived, but the holiday remains endearing because the sentiments are true.

The highlight for most moms are the "works of art", created by their children. Running the gamut from gaudy ceramic ashtrays to Popsicle stick jewelry boxes, they are crude, unsophisticated and --let’s face it-- sometimes rather ugly. Cards made with the latest advances in macaroni art, with" I love you mommy” written in glitter on oversized and glaringly bright construction paper, add the final gasp-inducing touch.

Yet search in a mother’s keepsake box and you’ll find them. Sitting there as reminders of a time when your little child hands reached out for her neck and the comfort of her touch. The mementos remind mom of a time when she could do no wrong; when she was your hero. When children become teenagers, the spell is temporarily broken. All of a sudden, mothers are seen as naggers, nuisances, naysayers. But --lo and behold-- when those same teenagers become adults, they come to the shocking realization that their mothers are still their heroes, their defenders, their biggest fans.

As Sunday approaches, most of us are thinking: what we could possibly do, purchase or say that could adequately convey the boundless and limitless love we have for our mothers? How does one repay someone for giving birth to them, nurturing them, kissing booboos away, healing scraped knees with a single kiss, preparing a million meals, chauffeuring them to every imaginable play date, basketball practice, doctor’s appointment, trip to the mall? How does one repay their mom for raising them and sending them into the world a self-sufficient, confident and --most importantly—caring human being?

What kind of gift can convey the gratitude one feels for the one person in this world who consistently and unequivocally wishes us nothing but happiness?

Writer Elizabeth Stone once said that “Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” How eloquently accurate! Happy Mother’s Day to all moms!