Catalogs were often part of our daily mail when I was growing up. My mother was not fond of shopping downtown, the only choice in the ‘50’s and ‘60’s, but she wouldn’t have enjoyed a mall either, had that been an option. She loved catalog shopping, and I was often the thrilled recipient of her thoughtfulness.

A catalog with a familiar company name arrived in my mailbox recently. Flipping through pages created a poignant awareness of how much I miss her and the never-ending void in my life created by her absence. It was surprising how an ordinary catalog could create such strong feelings.

However, further into my perusing, I realized the company’s inventory now included things not featured during my childhood. My mother’s contemporaries and mine certainly would never expect to see such “bedroom items” as are now pictured among the household goods and hard-to-find aprons and vintage furnishings. My mother was a progressive thinker, but still a woman of her time, and the times have apparently changed considerably since such “accessories” are now being sold in this once basic, appropriate-for-any-age catalog.

So while sentimentality was shattered for a bit, I was on a reminiscing jag. Recalling the catalog era, I remember National Bella Hess, Aldens, Lillian Vernon, Walter Drake, Penny’s, Sears, Carol Wright, Spiegel’s, Montgomery Ward and Fingerhut, along with seed and flower catalogs. My mom, a conservative spender, was very generous and we enjoyed browsing the catalogs and considering our purchases.

Shopping is no longer the thrill for me it once was. I’m starting to sound like my mother, which is a common phenomenon that we are all certain will never happen. But it does! She always said when she had enough money to buy some of the things she once wanted, she no longer wanted them. Having worked one-on-one with seniors for over 13 years, I can attest that is so true for women and men of all economic and social backgrounds. Age and maturity typically narrow down the wants, especially when it comes to buying more “stuff.”

The warm fuzzies and sweet sentiments about Moms peak on that second Sunday in May when we celebrate Mother’s Day. It’s a time filled with gratitude, memories of every description, time spent together, and often deep sadness, particularly if that mom or grandma is no longer with us. Individuality is apparent when it comes to mothers and grandmothers or a special aunt. Love can be defined with sternness, leniency, silliness, creativity, hospitality and time well spent with loved ones. What’s absolutely imperative is knowing the prime moment to utilize the most appropriate response. And also knowing when it’s best to look the other way, forgive an offense, or lavishly praise.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” said a person of unknown origin. The phrase was first published in 1602. Sometimes our purest love for another is when the person cannot reciprocate. Moms would concur, since maternal love begins much before a son or daughter can show any acknowledgment or appreciation. Moms also understand that sometimes it’s a particular scent of her favorite cologne, a meal that tastes just like she used to make or a mail-order catalog that jogs the memory with laughter, warm feelings, and appreciation. Such is the way of Moms.