14 March 2010 A Half Pint for Mum

Today was Mothering Sunday in the UK, otherwise known as Mother’s Day. I got here just in time, didn’t I? There’s nary a sign or advertisement for Saint Patrick’s Day in the shops around here– it’s all been about Mums. “Treat Mum On Her Special Day!” A couple of times this week I’ve had to check myself on the date and month. Wait, is it May already? Did I lose five hours and TWO months? No, it’s just that Mother’s Day is early in the British Isles.

By which I mean ancient. Mothering Sunday has a long religious and cultural history. Its roots are likely the Roman festival of spring, honoring Cybele, the mother goddess, although that tradition was probably grafted onto an older one. The Church then integrated it into its liturgical calendar, making it the fourth Sunday in Lent, halfway through the Lenten season, and a day to honor the Virgin Mary.

In the sixteenth century, Mothering Sunday was a day when Christians would visit the church where they were baptized–the “Mother Church”– or they’d go “a-mothering” to the nearest Cathedral. In later centuries it was traditionally the one day a year that men and women “in the service” (maids and servants) were allowed to take leave to visit their families. The servants would not show up empty handed, but bring their mothers a cake, flowers, or some little gift.

We went a-mothering to the pub. Seemed like a good idea, as our favorite (excuse me, favourite) pub serves up tasty roast dinner on Sundays, complete with Yorkshire pudding–a dish I grew up with thanks to my own mother whose father was from an English family.

A half pint, a game of “Snap,” and some tasty grub with my family made for a lovely English Mother’s Day. I don’t mind celebrating it early at all. Only I wish they’d hurry spring up to accompany it. This is the first Mother’s Day I’ve worn my winter coat and hat.

That’s a custom I could do without.