Mom, Sears and Channel 8 at 5

You walk into Sears and proceed to the electronics department. Twenty or so television screens share the same picture, whether it be sports, talking heads, or cartoons. There’s something about those images. All 20 of them. They’re hard to ignore.

I was a news reporter for several radio and television stations during my senior year in college. My timing coincided with the developing careers of women journalists such as Barbara Walters, Leslie Stahl, and of course, Mary Richards.

Mom and Dad would occasionally visit, but had yet to see or hear my broadcasts. Their home was outside the stations’ range.

Mom was a dedicated cheerleader. She clipped newspaper articles and photos when our high school speech and debate teams did well, and shared them with possibly every person she knew, however slightly, if I were mentioned or photographed. (She did the same for my brothers in their scouting careers).

So, how could Mom boast about her soon to be daughter reporter if she had yet to see or hear her over the airwaves?

She walked into Sears.

Will you please, she asked, turn one of your televisions to Channel 8 at 5 so we can watch our daughter do the news?

Well, ma’am, I’d be glad to. But if I change the channel on one, all the televisions will go to that same station.

That would be alright, Mom responded. She patiently waited to watch me.

On all the televisions in that Sears, in all my light blue pant-suited glory, I presented the news.

In fact, I was the news source for anyone who walked into that Sears.

Every Friday at 5 until graduation.

After graduation, Mom planned her visits to Dad’s family with my scheduled radio news reporting. They lived closer to the station. Mom asked everyone to be quiet until I was done. They winked and listened.

Years later, Mom pushed articles, brochures, and magazines on friends and family, as I moved into print media. Everyone she knew was familiar with my career, had read my work, or held on to overruns Mom had shared with them.

While Mom was our ambassador, we were so proud of her. She was a sought after nurse in area hospitals and older adult communities, and was the caregiver for years for our Dad. Mom was from Germany, coming over with our Dad after the war. She was a staunch advocate for women’s and girls’ rights through her words and actions.  She could be tough. Her expectations of us could be unrealistic. Or so we thought. Mom was the best. We miss her. A lot.

Now it’s your turn! 

Give your Mom a shout out! Share stories of her with your friends! And your family! Tell everyone (including your Mom, if you are lucky to still have her) of your Mother’s role in making you who you are today! (Please email me, too!)*

Share the funny stories! Share the sad stories. 

Share the stories of your Mom.

Remember. Reflect. Be happy. Be sad. Be grateful.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!


*(To share your Mom stories with me, please “Leave a Reply” at the end of this post, or contact me via the “Contact” page of


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