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FROM THE MARGINS | BY PATRICK AZADIAN
Los Angeles Times Valley Edition | Glendale News-Press | May 20 2006

My mom's the best

After missing my mom's birthday, I was not about to miss Mother's Day. This became especially true after I overheard a couple of strangers at Starbucks talking about what they had done for their moms. Thanks to the unwitting good Samaritans, I was warned early enough to be able to buy some white jasmines and visit my mom.

I may be coming across as a bit inconsiderate, but that's really not the case. Really.

First, I am skeptical of these special-day celebrations. We have them for everyone and everything. There's a day for mothers, fathers, office administrators, wives, husbands, lovers, presidents, general workers, leftist workers, abused animals -- you name it.

Call me crazy, but when we designate special days of affection for just about everyone and everything, doesn't that dilute the significance of that gesture?

Moreover, society agrees that we need to appreciate these special people, but at some point the majority of the population was probably not doing enough appreciating, so some people got together and said: "Darn it! On this day you will appreciate that special person!"

The real reason for my indifference to Mother's Day, however, is probably my mom's fault. As I get older, I like to blame everything on my parents; it's not only liberating, it can also be fun if your parents have a sense of humor. It's also way cheaper than therapy.

My mom did not complain about my no-show on her birthday (I did call). The root of this mutual liaise-faire attitude goes back to what I'd like to call the idea of total devotion and selflessness toward one's own offspring. The only expectation my mom has is for me to be happy. And it can even be my own version of happiness. If I tell her: "I am living a happy and fulfilling life," she will be happy and fulfilled. This explains her indifference to symbolic celebrations.

Now it's time for some non-scientific generalizations and crude stereotyping, which is always fun.

My mom's outlook probably falls within the general guidelines of being a traditional Armenian parent. Here are some commandments from the book of being an Armenian mom. I am sure the Irish, Sicilians and Serbs may have a rightful claim to these commandments, but as far as I know, Armenians wrote the book on being a devoted mom. Here is a brief outline:

--Thou shalt devote her life to her offspring.

In other words "My children über alles!" Nothing can come first, not a career, not a facial, not shopping at Sacks, not even the father of the children. Life is a matter of priorities, and children come first. --Thou shalt use guilt to discipline children.

Modern tools of discipline and logic are making slow progress in Armenian homes, but the most common means of maintaining order remains guilt.

My mom has always been easy on laying any guilt trips on me, but the one time I was supposedly grounded and wanted to escape "punishment," she told me: "Doo es eemanoom, eench oozoom es ara!" ("It's up to you, do what you think is right!") I chose to remain grounded.

--Thou shalt not blame her son for any wrongdoings.

It does not matter if that son turns out to be a drug dealer, a gangster or a pimp; in his mother's eyes the son is always "a good boy."

Not only is the son always good, but it's always someone else's son who is the bad seed. This, of course does not make any sense, since all boys have mothers, and all mothers think their sons are saints, but it's someone else's son who is bad. It's confusing, but you get the picture. To an Armenian mother, wrong or right, her son is always right.

On the other hand, when it comes to the daughters, mothers are not as forgiving.

--Thou shalt blame her daughter for not being married.

I got a taste of what some Armenian girls go through just when I had gotten out of a six-month relationship with a Lebanese-Armenian girl. Her mom spotted us standing together at a function and asked her own daughter: "Eench yeghav, as al meh avretseer?" ("What happened, did you screw up this one too?")

Is it politically correct to say Armenian moms are the best? Probably not. And in some ways, they do overdo it, don't they?

OK then, let me try this: In my opinion, my mom is the best, and she happens to be Armenian.

Happy belated Mother's Day to all.

Copyright 2006 Glendale News Press