Wednesday, June 6, 2018

Remembering My Mom


I wanted to write a tribute to my mom, and make sure that everyone would know how special she was, but there simply are not the words for the emotion. Yet, mothers are universal and in what I leave unsaid is also a shared understanding.   We know our parents in very different ways I suppose – not really as people in some respects, but as our protectors, our guides, our hearts.  The connection is deep and meaningful, and probably the ultimate purpose in life – to have that unnamed, limitless love surrounding us. How lucky when any of us have experienced that.

My mom still is that enveloping love for me, though she isn’t physically here. I wanted to say what I think of most, but honestly, I miss her voice the most.  I find myself calling the house phone when I know Dad isn’t there so I can hear her.  It doesn’t make me sad at all – it serves as a comfort to me when I feel lost without her. Academically, that makes perfect sense, in that our mother’s voice is the first voice we ever know, before we have a consciousness. My heart knows it is much more.

Probably folks know she was driven, she was philanthropic, she had high standards for herself, and for others.  What can I share that you wouldn’t know? She was quick-witted and funny.  She listened like nobody else, endlessly, as I talked endlessly. Nobody listens to you like your mom.  Nobody heard me like my mom. Nobody knows me like my mom did, in all my imperfection, as she did all her children.  She loved her family deeply…every last one of us.

The picture I have in my head of my parents has been there a long time. I remember a red brocade dress and fur coat she would wear out with my dad.  She was beautiful standing beside him, and I have this internal picture of them – probably in their 30’s – going out, and I thought they seemed so glamorous and intriguing, I was sure other kids wished their parents were as cool as mine. I don’t know that she ever felt beautiful, or knew her children saw that, but I did.

I remember discovering my parents were human beings – probably as a teenager – and being quite exasperated with that.  But I loved spending time with them, and checked in all through college…and mom babysat my children while we did masters programs and lived with them. And lord, I am sure that is not easy on anyone!  I think she knew we appreciated all those things, but sometimes I wonder if I thanked her enough for what she did for us.

Did you know my mom was quite a spirited child, teen, and young woman? She told some pretty funny stories of her escapades, often laughing and shaking her head.  And in the end, I know she wanted people to think of her as giving, as kind, as a good person.  I know it mattered that she was here for all of us. And I hope we all have a special JoAnne memory that you can share and hold dear.

I am the person I am because of my parents.  It is hard to separate mom from dad, because they have always been a team.  And I am thankful for that.  Perhaps the greatest gift we give our parents is found in the way we chose to lead our own lives in tribute to them. I know Mom was found of the saying, “We give our children two things: One is roots, the other wings.” And that pretty much sums it up. One conversation about the distance we all live from her, she laughed and said that living far away was not her intention when she stitched that saying!  She encouraged us all, even when that meant we would travel far from her side.  That is pretty incredible, but also a sign of her adventuresome spirit. I miss her every day and I am sure I always will.

I’d like to share a poem to close:

when I go from this place
dress the porch with garlands
as you would for a wedding my dear
pull the people from their homes
and dance in the streets
when death arrives
like a bride in the aisle
send me off in my brightest clothing
serve ice cream with rose petals to our guests
there’s no reason to cry my dear
I have waited my whole life
for such beauty to take
my breath away
when I go
let it be a celebration
for I have been here.
I have lived.
I have won this game called life.  rupi kaur


Friday, February 9, 2018

Becoming a grandparent

I am not sure anyone dreams about becoming a grandparent specifically, but there is a time in your life when you start to miss the parenting part of who you were.  The squeals and grunts of a baby, warm and cuddly in your arms, the sloppy kisses of a toddler, the funny antics of the very young...the best parts of watching your own children grow up. I knew we were ready to be grandparents when I saw other babies with their grandparents and felt that tug at my heart every so quietly. 

However, there are no words to express what happens when a tiny bundle of baby is placed in your arms and you recognize your legacy.    The familiarity of holding this child of your child, so new, so full of promise. The beauty of new life. Sensing the future that will leave you behind but live on in this beautiful child. Life comes full circle again, and it feels so extraordinary, that tears are the only answer. Tears of pure joy.

We know we love endlessly. We  have the capability to love beyond all limits of human understanding. And it is in that moment of holding my grandson, that I felt joy, love, and gratitude rush through me and out of me. I don't think I can ever forget that feeling, nor do I want to. And as he grows and changes, I will delight in each and very moment with him, celebrating his journey in ways I couldn't with my own children. We are so responsible for our own offspring, stewing, worrying, reprimanding, guiding, that I would find myself lost in seeing the forest for the trees. Nevermore. This child is our reward for all that hard work, and watching my own child parent could be one of the most affirming experiences of my life.

If I could bottle this, I could create world peace.