Today is mother’s day in Spain. Or rather, everywhere in Spain but here.
And to the best of my knowledge, the first place in Spain to have an official Mother’s Day was Breña Baja. The local poet, Félix Duarte Pérez , left home for Venezuela at some horrendously young age (fifteen, I think). Not surprisingly, he missed his mother a good deal, and they sent each other lots of letters. When he finally came home at the age of 35, he persuaded the town hall to adopt the “American” idea of Mother’s Day, on the third Sunday in May.
Everywhere else celebrates it on the first Sunday in May. And in Breña Baja, people traditionally wear flowers. If your mother’s still alive, you wear a red one, and if she’s died, you wear a white on.
From my point of view, there are advantages to this peculiar arrangement. My husband and son get reminded two weeks in advance, and by the time it’s mother’s day here, the prices of flowers and chocolate are back to normal.
