Beyond Flowers and Breakfast in Bed

photo tulips and love letter on glass table
Photo by Gustavo Fring on Pexels.com

A recent social media post in anticipation of Mother’s Day showed a husband interrupting his wife while doing dishes. He told her she shouldn’t be doing them since it was Mother’s Day. She glowed. After a short pause, he added, “Just leave them until tomorrow.”

I’m among the many who enjoyed a good laugh.

I also found it ironic that I’m about to release my next book, Memorials, Monuments, and Memories. It includes a thanks to my Dad and some “sort of” Dads. The release was aimed at Memorial Day, not Mother’s Day.

But here we are, faced with a holiday meant to celebrate mothers. It should mean more than flowers and a day off from doing dishes. And it should apply to “sort of” Moms.

Wikipedia explains that Mother’s Day is an annual holiday celebrated in many parts of the world to honor mothers, maternal bonds, and mothers’ influence in society. In the United States, it is observed on the second Sunday in May and typically involves giving gifts, cards, flowers, and spending time with family to show appreciation.

Mother’s Day was established in 1908 by Anna Jarvis to honor her deceased mother. The common traditions (brunch, breakfast in bed, giving red or white carnations, and spending time with family) are a challenge for those whose mothers are not around. And what about the instances where, for assorted reasons, fathers are attempting to fulfill the role?

We could watch the 1983 movie “Mr. Mom” as an annual tradition. After he’s suddenly laid off, a husband switches roles with his wife. She returns to the workforce, and he becomes a stay-at-home dad, and he must take care of three young children, a job he has no clue how to do. It’s a funny movie. Since it was produced over forty years ago, there might be an interesting discussion about how parenting roles have changed over four decades. According to at least one study, the number of single fathers has doubled.

I’m not advocating breakfast in bed for single fathers. On a more serious note, I am suggesting we go a little deeper on Mother’s Day to celebrate the role of mothers and motherhood in our lives. Let’s not simply appreciate a person, but also their contribution.

Thanks, Mom, for who you are as well as what you do.

Don’t Tell Me, Show Me.

Thanks to some technology issues, I’ve encountered a team that apparently loves to use AI to write their emails.

Each email follows a predictable “I understand…” pattern. That would be great if it were clear they understood the problem. But they claim to understand my feelings and frustration.

They really don’t.

I want to reply, “Don’t tell me you understand, show me you understand.” The dialog is supposed to be about problem-solving, not my mental state. In this case, it would seem we’re not doing very well with either. A more effective approach could be to acknowledge the specific issue someone is facing by paraphrasing their concern, or better yet, suggesting a possible next step.

For example, instead of writing, “I understand your frustration,” it would be more helpful to say, “I see that your websites are experiencing lengthy outages and I realize how disruptive that is. Here are the steps I’m taking to resolve it.” This kind of response is more genuine and gives the conversation direction.

Admittedly, I’ve always had a bias toward empathy. Keeping it simple, even if we have walked down the exact same path, you weren’t wearing my shoes. Claiming you understand can come across as patronizing, particularly if you’re not actively listening. It feels like you’re invalidating my feelings and trying to make it about you!

We used to call it boilerplate when we developed standardized answers to inquiries or complaints. The obvious hazard of boilerplate is its mechanical nature. As we increasingly depend on AI and bots. AI doesn’t know how to do that. In some respects, that’s reassuring.

Repotting My Work: A Renewed Focus on Writing

Socrates

Well, I may have jumped the gun. Actually, several times. You may have noticed the new header image. There’s more coming!

Much has happened over the past few years, and it has presented a huge opportunity to repot myself. (Repotting, in this case, means growing in a different place.) This new place comes with a strong focus on writing.

My online presence — this site and social media — will catch up to where I am now. Things may appear a little disorganized for a while. Stay tuned.

The Grange: More than a Place

This article was published in the April 2026 Issue of the Guilford Register.

© 2026, Walter Boomsma

One of my greatest pleasures in life is attempting to explain the origins and purpose of this organization called “the Grange” to excited third graders as part of our “Words for Thirds” program. I start by attempting to determine what they already know about the Grange, and I’ll always remember the young girl who waved her hand enthusiastically and announced, “I was born there.”

It took a little thinking to realize she’d heard me say “LaGrange” – one of the small, rural communities here in Maine. Her answer was certainly amusing, but it was also insightful and telling. Like the organization she was learning about, she was proud of her roots and heritage. She announced her connection and kinship to LaGrange just as enthusiastically as I announce my connection to the Grange.

For those unfamiliar with it, the Grange, officially known as the Patrons of Husbandry, was founded in 1867 to revitalize American agriculture and foster a sense of belonging among rural families following the Civil War. By establishing local Granges, the organization provided a vital social hub that offered educational lectures, cooperative buying power to lower costs, and a rare space for men, women, and youth to participate equally. This focus on mutual aid and collective improvement transformed isolated farmsteads into tight-knit networks, cementing the Grange as a cornerstone of rural social life and civic engagement for over a century.

A sense of connection often attracts people to small-town rural America. But even small towns are experiencing a “social disconnect” as things like regional school systems and social media change the traditional model of community. We now have cell phones, tablets, and computers to stay “connected” with people – in many cases, people we rarely see and certainly can’t touch.

But beneath all the communicating, we still want to see people – to touch and be touched – and to feel a part of something. People will claim their families are going “in a million different directions” but not really consider why. Some of it must be the search for connections and a sense of belonging. At the Grange, families find unity, shared purpose, and a sense of community regardless of geographic boundaries. Being from “LaGrange” is not enough. Being from “the Grange” offers more.

The Grange, with its fundamental principles and practices, is one place where the entire family can not only be together but also feel connected to other like-minded people and families. The Grange’s rich heritage as an organization with shared values and missions remains relevant today. One hundred years ago, it was about farmers coming together and overcoming rural isolation. Today, it is about a larger and redefined community, but it is still about coming together and overcoming isolation.

In a study, psychologists McMillan and Chavis identified the four elements required for a “sense of community:” 1) membership, 2) influence, 3) fulfillment of needs, and 4) shared emotional connection. An in-depth study isn’t required to see how an active Grange contributes to those elements and builds a sense of community. From potluck suppers to community service projects, Grange members and friends feel a sense of kinship and demonstrate a cooperative spirit.

There are several crucial factors that distinguish the Grange from other civic and community organizations. The family orientation is one notable difference. Grange families find occasions when they don’t go in a million directions. Another is the diversity of programming and interests. The Grange offers social, economic, and educational benefits to all. You can’t be born there, but you can belong.

Because learning should be fun—and life is the best teacher