Paying homage to those women who gave us life

Editor Note: In honor of Mother's Day 2023, some of the staff here at the Daily Record share glimpses and thoughts of our Moms.

A tribute to my Mom, Pamela Gravis Celeste Cook

Growing up, when people asked my Mom what she wanted to be when she grew up, she would answer, “A Mom.” She was a gifted musician and a top-notch event planner (aka The Boss of Us), but that answer came first. She wanted to be a Mom. Perhaps that accounts for why she’s such a natural at it and why — no matter what — she is the Mom of every group.

Here at the Record, where Pam worked for 26 years, she became the Office Mom. She kept her desk stocked with snacks, Band-aids and pain relievers, just in case.

When I was a teenager, she was the Friend Mom. Among my high school friends, there was an understanding; If someone needed to be picked up in the middle of the night from a dangerous situation, she was the Mom for the job. If they got thrown out, locked out, had a fight, or just needed someone to talk to, my Mom was there.

I think a lot about those teenage years now. My two best friends from back then are my two best friends now. Both say they might not have made it if it hadn’t been for her.

Putting this tribute together, I sought a single anecdote that would encapsulate all the times she’s been there for us, but what followed was an outpouring of memories. Like an old home video or a montage from an 80s movie, these memories showed the cumulative daily presence of my Mom.

Big moments and small ones, Pam Gravis is always there, and that is some beautiful Momming.

The Best Momma Jasmine Harrell

My mother, in my completely unbiased opinion, is the best mother anyone could have. As the oldest of six children, I have seen all the amazing things my mother has done to keep her children and family happy.

She has the biggest heart and kindest soul which she uses to connect with anyone and everyone.

You can often find her making squirrel calls in the evenings to feed her favorite fuzzy buddies by hand or starting a new DIY project with nothing but a half-watched YouTube video and a little faith. I am constantly amazed by her motivation and determination to never let anything stand in her way. I do not know what I would do without her, her tears, laughter, or hugs, but when that day inevitably comes, I will always remember she loved us more than anything in the world and her love will always flow through us as we pass on all the lessons she’s taught us to our own children. I love you Momma, thank you for being the best mom I could ever ask for.

My Go-To Girl Shannon West

My Mother and I are incredibly close. We see each other every weekend. She’s busy working hard during the week, and I mean that. She’s the hardest worker I know. She is my biggest and most proud cheerleader, when I reach my goals, and even when I don’t.

She lives just a short drive down Hunter road in New Braunfels–the perfect distance for a quick trip in the midst of a nervous breakdown of which she’s had many to intervene in.

My mom gets joy out of the simple things in life. She loves to hula hoop and blow bubbles and is a big fan of rock music, whether that be modern or classic. She also LOVES to dance which does not necessarily mean she’s a good dancer. All of the groove is in her shoulders, but you can’t knock her confidence or her originality.

She particularly loves The Rolling Stones, so much so that she paid, more than I would have, for some tickets for the two of us to see them a few years ago. I was shocked that Mick Jagger could still hop around the stage and was a little concerned for Keith Richards' knees when he dropped to the ground to play guitar, but I digress… Her favorite movie is 'Terms of Endearment' which she loves to watch at least once a year so she can get out a good cry. The movie we like to watch together is 'Dirty Dancing' because Patrick Swayze was undeniably a hunk.

I look just like my Mother, but much taller. I do a great Jill impersonation. She’s tiny, but mighty. Don’t mess with her, she’s a Leo and therefore a fire sign. She loves hard–especially me, and would do anything for someone she cares about. She’s selfless almost to a fault in that way. Through all of my weird phases and my angst-y teen years, which pretty much lasted all of the way through my 20s, she’s stuck by me and been my rock.

I don’t have any kids, but my dogs are definitely her honorary grandchildren and get incredibly excited to go to grandmas and run a muck in her massive yard. I’m sure when I do have kids, she will be the most incredible “Nanny.” I love you, Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.

I also want to give a quick shout out to another maternal figure in my life, Judy Crandall whom I probably see as much as my mom. She’s basically Snow White: animals adore her, and who could be a better judge of true kindness? She’s also one of the most intuitive people that I know, so she gives great advice. I think she might be a healer too because her foot massages are next level. Happy Mother’s Day to you, too, Judy.

My Mother, Rosemarie Barbara Audet

She loved so many things: Notre Dame, the Dallas Cowboys, her children and a rather handsome Old English Sheepdog named Reggie. In reading about my colleagues’ mothers, it reminds me rather painfully how much I miss Rosemarie Cecelia Keehan Audet.

She died in 2012 when I was still trying to get a doctoral degree at the University of Texas at Austin. She had been ill for five years when on July 1, a few days after my birthday and the day before my older brother’s birthday, she left this life listening to the music of Nelson Eddy and Jeanette MacDonald.

Her own soprano voice was good enough for Hollywood but she had six children, all cesarean instead, starting in 1952 with my late brother, James, and ending with the birth of my little brother, Christopher in 1965. One was April 14 and one was April 15, clever woman.

She never had an easy day in all the days that I knew her. She was 1929 and I am 1954 and so there were 25 years between us, but we made that work.

She was not a college graduate, unlike her siblings, and yet, more than any of them, I believe she deserved to be. She visited me at Northwestern University when I was having a tough time, and in her best, Irish-German Chicago girl mode, got me up and cheerful.

I believe my mother was one of those rare jewels on this planet: sparkling blue eyes, intense commitment to who she was and a razor- keen, fine sense of humor. Everyone loved her or were just too jealous to admit how glorious she was.

A 4-foot-11-inch tower of strength.

I did my best to raise my son and daughter and I marvel at what it was truly like for her to deal with three times that number and still make each one of us feel unique and valuable. She did it.

She lost my Dad when she was only 57 in 1986 and off to work she went again, doing her best to navigate a world that defied navigation.

The cruelty of her dementia robbed her of the time she should have had to play with her great-granddaughters and to see more places. She was a traveling lady when she could afford it. The sketch of her in Paris is a favorite of mine because she is so happy in it.

When I won a scholarship to attend a small private high school in New Jersey, she took me to buy my uniforms–matching Villager skirts, sweaters and blazers. The money was dear and she proudly made sure I had these items despite the sacrifice.

The day I graduated from Oak Knoll she took me to get my long, black hair done in an up-sweep look and later, at my graduation party (also a difficult financial time for the family), gave me a ring with a fairy setting of gold holding a color-changing Alexandrite, my June birthstone. She had given me a woman to wear on my finger, ready to take flight with all the rainbow glitter she could manage.

Inspiring? Yes. So ahead of her time. My Mom.