A group of women were telling stories about mothers last week and someone said, "Can you believe what they used to do?"
We shook our heads and someone else said, "Boy, we're not like our mothers at all."
But when I was driving home and thinking about my mother and her friends, it occurred to me that I'd have to add, "except that we kind of are."
Maybe this is the trap of all daughters. We are sure we're nothing like the women who raised us; but today, on Mother's Day, let's reconsider.
We began with the quintessential 1950's mother: homemaker, cupcake baker, Scout leader and Sunday school teacher. We laugh about her, but let's take a closer look at some of the things we think we've bettered:
We said we'd never wear girdles like our mothers. They were so uncomfortable — all that tugging and pulling. Nope, not for us. But we will pile on the Spanx and triple-strength "shape wear." Even our jeans have "control panels."
We talked about the summertime moms' holding reflective sunshields under their chins. "Can you imagine?" we say, then we dash to the spray tan salon. "It just looks healthier," we add.
We also laughed about how the women before us went to the beauty salon once a week to get their hair done. The big rollers and the noisy dryers. Then they used layers of toilet paper, silk scarves and hair spray to preserve that "do" all week.
Gross, right? We just pay for expense blowouts and shake baby powder or "dry shampoo" on our heads to make our hair last at least five days.
Our mothers clipped coupons, and we click Groupons. Our mothers were always on special "reducing" diets. They kept cottage cheese and lettuce in the fridge. And no bread. Today we call that high-protein and gluten-free.
But scarier: Our mothers took Dexedrine and Valium. We know better; we take only prescription ADHD drugs and our nightly Ambien.
Our mothers had Betty Friedan, who described their dissatisfaction. We have Sheryl Sandberg, who leans in to tell us we are still not doing it right.
But what some of us are starting to realize is that our mothers did some things much better than we do.
One of those is service. Our mothers volunteered. It was important to them and it was real. Some served on committees but they also baked, sewed, shelved books and handed out food. It was hands-on.
Many of us volunteer, too, but it tends to be self-serving. We join committees and boards and that's all good, but we are also networking. We expect something back.
Another thing many of our mothers had that we don't is a spiritual life or a faith community. Though we've all heard or said, "I'm spiritual but not religious," it just isn't the same as being part of a community of like-minded and like-hearted people.
Community is the key word. Lives of faith and service go hand in hand. When our mothers were part of Hadassah or the Women's Faith Guild, they saw who needed help and they pitched right in.
Something else our mothers did was sing. They sang at church, but they also sang at home, in the car, with friends and with us. Music was communal and it didn't matter if you had a good voice. It was joyful and connected. We watch our TED Talks and old TV shows on Hulu, but video can't bond a family or friends like singing together can.
Which leads to an important thing our mothers did that most of us aspire to: They saw their friends. They actually saw them — in person and regularly. They had coffee and cocktails and cottage cheese salads.
Yes, we "Like" our friends on Facebook and we promise to "get together soon," but our mothers did it. They looked into their friend's eyes when they laughed and cried and told stories.
Our mothers are the women we are afraid to be and afraid that we can never be. And even as we laugh, we can learn from them still.
Diane Cameron is a Capital Region writer. Her email address is dcameron6@nycap.rr.com.