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By Bonnie Bartel Latino

Columnist

When my husband was stationed with the USAF at Sembach Air Force Base in Germany, I wrote a rebuttal to a letter to the editor someone had written to Stars and Stripes. I had occasionally written travel articles about various places in Europe we had lived for the publication. The editor of the paper’s magazine, which was aptly named SUNDAY, contacted me to say my rebuttal had been well received. He asked if I’d like to freelance for the magazine, writing opinion-editorial columns. Of course, I said yes.

One of my columns, published on May 8, 1994, created a stir within the chaplain corps in Europe, especially at Sembach, I was told. Recently the 30-year-old column has become especially relevant in the United States. That relevancy has been like a silent scream in my head, daring me not to share its core thoughts. Below I’m sharing parts of that column, complete with a different ending.

… “My girlfriend Willie’s dad raised her and her three sisters after their mother abandoned the family early in their little lives. Because there was not a lot of money in their household their church, a powerful influence in their lives, always provided extra holiday food and their only gifts and treats on holidays.

“Mother’s Day was the one Sunday Willie dreaded every year. Their church, as do many American churches, gave red carnations to members of the congregation whose mothers were living. Children, whose moms weren’t alive, received a white blossom. Which color flower should Willie accept from the usher, always confused her. As she grew older, she chose white on Mother’s Day. The only way she could deal with the lack of a mother in her life was to make believe her mama had died.

Now in her early 40s, Willie said in our interview, “As you get older, the loss of a mother’s love grows deeper.” My friend has discovered, as have I, this is the time in a woman’s life when your mama should be your best friend, so the loss becomes even more poignant as one grows older. Willie’s mother became dead to her children by choice, and my mama died by the grace of God after suffering for decades with intense pain caused by a chronic, incurable disease, Rheumatoid Arthritis.  Willie and I will both wear white on Mother’s Day.”

“Each time my husband and I made a permanent change of station, I packed up my porcelain-faced doll, my favorite cuddle bear and old dreams of someday having my own baby girl. She would become the keeper of my miniature treasures until she passed them on to her child, my grandchild. Years into Tom’s military career, it finally dawned on me the military doctors in Guam had been right. I would never be able to have a child of my own with whom to share my childhood treasures. My heart had never found a way to accept the dreadful reality that my mind had known for 20 years. For one last time, I packed away my favorite doll, bear, and dreams.

“As Willie did, I began to dread Mother’s Day, where you walk into the club or a civilian restaurant for lunch and a waiter offers a glass of champagne and a choice of a red or white rose. Without thinking, the waiter also wishes you ‘Happy Mother’s Day.’

“Today when a pastor or priest asks mothers to stand to be honored in church, how many women will be flooded by self-conscious feelings of defeat, as I did for years? Will they feel they have failed themselves, their husbands, and perhaps even their God? It would be exceptional for all clergy, waitstaffs, even greeting card companies to simply celebrate the joy of womanhood.” That last sentence is what caused a ruckus among chaplains at U.S. military bases in Europe.

Playwright and poet, Oscar Wilde once said, “With age comes wisdom…” In my case it has. I now believe Mother’s Day to be sacred and should never be cancelled. With the passage of time and the kindness of Andrew Garner at the Atmore Advance, I have an opportunity to rewrite my offensive final sentence: It would be exceptional on Mother’s Day if all of us, particularly clergy and waitstaff remember not every woman is fortunate enough to be a mother.

Due to the recent relevance of this topic, my mind has screamed for days, daring me not to share my current thoughts. Candidates carrying the national banners of both political parties seem to have some whack-job ideas in regard to motherhood. Presidential candidate Kamala Harris has far-left views on crime, illegal immigration, the economy. It’s only Wednesday, she might have flipped on other issues by now. The woman flips more than Waffle House. Her opinions on late-term abortions are abhorrent.

Far-right Vice Presidential Candidate J.D. Vance made a pejorative comment about “childless women with cats.” If that weren’t bad enough, some of J.D. Vance’s bright ideas seem to refute common sense. He has stated that he doesn’t believe childless people should be allowed to vote. Does he think thousands of active duty and retired military personnel are not qualified voters because they and/or their spouse is unable to bear children? My opinion is that Mr. Vance is chauvinistic at best; misogynistic, at worst.

Should either party’s beliefs on reproductive rights and other issues imperative to America’s survival become law, may God help these United States. Our imperfect nation is already living in the most perilous time since the Civil War.