Mary Kenny
Mother’s Day is a very old tradition – linked both with ‘Lady Day’, being the Feast of the Annunciation, and ‘Mothering Sunday’, when apprentices had time off to return to their mother-village.
Father’s Day is of more recent coinage, launched in America in 1910, by one Sonora Smart Dodd, wishing to honour her father, who brought up six children as a single parent.
Yes, it’s been merchandised, as everything is now, with shops and internet outlets awash with suggestions for Father’s Day’s gifts. But despite the blatant commercialisation, I reckon Sonora Smart Dodd – a Methodist stalwart of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union – did a good deed when she launched Father’s Day in Arkansas that June day.
In our time, when men are often demonised with the accusation of “toxic masculinity”, it’s nice to recognise that so many men are good and conscientious fathers, loved and honoured by their children all their lives.
My own father died 70 years ago, in 1949, and as it happens, he died on Father’s Day, June 20. I was very young and scarcely remember him, and yet, my mother and my elder siblings kept his memory fresh, and spoke about him with such love and respect, that 70 years on, I still think of him. With the passage of time, thoughts about our parents even tend to increase.
When I was growing up without a father, I certainly envied children with a dad. I still look at kids with their fathers in playgrounds and reflect that they are blessed to have a father who has time for them, cares and protects them.
I have also come to believe that some feminists are angry with men because they didn’t have good fathers: their fathers were neglectful, or harsh, or absent, either physically or psychologically.
Father’s Day is a universal reminder of all kinds of fatherhood – spiritual, biological, by adoption or fosterage – and it’s a lovely opportunity to celebrate dads.
Language is power
Be aware that the new phrase to disparage anyone with pro-life views is now a ‘forced birther’ – as though they were some kind of tyrant from The Handmaid’s Tale coercing women to have sexual relations, conceive and give birth.
A person who is grateful they were born in unpropitious circumstances is now called a ‘forced birther’. Someone who observes that the ultrasound scan is proof of life in the womb can be dubbed a ‘forced birther’. Anyone with the most hesitant opinion about the ethics of abortion up to 40 weeks risks being described as a ‘forced birther’.
It was actually an abortion counsellor who told me, during an interview, that “given different circumstances, money, the housing situation, a more supportive partner or family, a lot of women would want to continue with an unexpected pregnancy”. But how do you express the complexities of that in a single catchphrase? Language is power.
The Chief’s car a treat to see
Visiting Co Clare last week, I was treated to a viewing of Eamon De Valera’s car, a 1947 Plymouth Dodge, which is encased in a transparent garage near the De Valera Library in Ennis.
It’s a fabulous veteran motor, made by Chrysler, and first purchased for President Sean T O’Kelly. Dev then bought it in 1959 and often drove around in it for various functions, especially in his home constituency.
In 2011, Clare Councillor PJ Ryan restored the vehicle, with the technical assistance of David Browne, and a beautiful job they did, too.
Lord Mayor
The late Joe Briscoe told me that when his father, Robert Briscoe – twice Lord Mayor of Dublin, a Jewish Irishman who did so much good for Ireland when visiting America – was moving towards the end of his life, he lapsed into a comatose state, and was unresponsive to his family gathered around him.
Then they heard the sound of Dev’s car – “ZH 1333” as Joe recalled it – as it came to a halt outside the house. De Valera entered and came to the bedside. Robert Briscoe opened his eyes, smiled and said: “It’s you, Chief.”
He died soon afterwards.
Joe Briscoe never forgot the sound or registration number of that vehicle, which now resides, with all the stories that must be attached to it, in a glass garage in Ennis.