A Day With My Mother

I can distinctly recall spending many early mornings with my mother as a very young child. Endlessly engraved in my memory is aroma of coffee and sprinting down the stairs to my basement to collect my mothers’ uniform from the dryer. And then with a kiss laid upon my forehead, she would drop my siblings and I off at my grandparents’ home to begin her ten, sometimes twelve hour shifts as an ultrasound technologist. Then just as I can vividly recount my mother’s morning routine, I still can picture the evenings I spent with my mother to the same caliber. Simply put, my mother is a wonderful cook. And thus, each evening she would prepare a different meal. And while the meals always varied, her superior cooking skills never faltered. Despite her hectic work schedule, never once did I witness my mother skip cooking dinner for myself, my four elder brothers, or my father.

Between continuously switching loads of wash for a family of seven, cleaning up after the multitudes of messes my brothers’ and I left behind throughout the house, and tending to the garden, despite her tendency to kill the flowers. Fortunately, at fifty-eight years old, she has only improved upon her gardening skills. Yet, evidently, she still made the effort. Simply, my mother continuously without an inkling trudges through both her “paid” and “unpaid” work without complaint. And while sociologist Magalene Harris Taylor, author of “Martha Stewart as a Sociological Phenomenon” determines Martha Stewart to be a sociological phenomenon- which I believe to be rightfully so, I would strongly argue that my mother falls into this category as well. Although to a lesser degree and media platform than Stewart, I believe that my mother’s lifestyle favors both that of Structural Functionalist theorist as well as a Feminist