Confessions of a Free Range Prolapsed Catholic

As I start to write this it is Fathers’ Day in Australia. Mothers’ Day happens in May in Australia.

One of my daughters is a teacher. In a recent conversation she bemoaned “You should hear what we have to call Fathers’ Day now” She did not elaborate, being close enough to my own gene pool, she probably realised what my reaction would be. However, today on FaceBook I read that some schools are referring to a name change to DUGS Day – Dads. Uncle, Grandfathers and Significant others’ day. When I enquired about Mothers’ Day , in May next year it will be MAGS Day – Mothers’ Aunties’ Grandmothers’ Significant others day. My response to this is that the world has gone mad!

Of course I am a baby boomer! Of course I have out lived my usefulness! Of course I am responsible for all the struggle, turmoil and agony of those generations I gave birth to, having dared to procreate across two generations and of course the titles Mother, Grandmother, Mum, and Grandma and Nana are triggers for each of my descendants at some stage, and possibly their extended family! And in the age of the me too movement, I put my hand up for that as well!

However! What are we trying to do here? Looking at the beginnings of Fathers’ Day I read it came about in America. You can look it up! Mothers’ Day too. In Pagan times, feasts were held based around the movement of the earth around the sun!

The romantic notions of Mother and Father, Grandmother and Grandfather fell short for my Mother and Father. They fall short for my children.

It occurs to me that if the days were obliterated from the calendar along with Valentine’s Day and most religious days of festival the world might be a better place, but really who knows?

In a culture where everything has been commodified to keep the economy booming, days of observance that guarantee to get the cash registers (ancient means of collecting payment) ringing and the notes and coinage (ancient means of paying for things) jangling, its easier to go generic on everything.

No pain. No judgement. No unpleasantness. Bland bordering on flatline.

The thing that I have learned is that life is messy. Life makes love messy, fraught with struggle. Kindness is the one thing that I can identify as being without judgement. Naming the truth is the first step.

Dressing it up with platitudes and euphemisms does not and will not address the reality that Mothers, Fathers, Grandmothers, Grandfathers, Uncles, Aunties and Cousins have the capacity to nurture or destroy the generation that comes after them. Everyone present to that generation is a Significant Other!