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

Just Don't Do It...The Things I Would Not Do

I was watching the Today show as I was trying to wake up this morning...I had been up again at 4AM, tossed and turned until 6AM and then - as us usual when this happens - I fell soundly asleep again.  Fighting to wake up, I was watching Ann Curry interview President Clinton about his book choices for the holidays.  He mentioned Meditations by Marcus Aurelius (edited of course, from the Greek).  I found myself sitting up and taking notice when Clinton said, "When people are in power, it is most important to think about what they would not do." And I instantly thought of the "Just Do It" mentality of the world we live in...what would that mean if we had to consider what we would NOT just do...

I thought about what Clinton said about watching people running for office.  Is it hard to figure out where they draw the line in the sand? Or is it rhetoric? And it got me thinking about the cues you might take from folks about what they just would NOT do.  It speaks directly to the heart of what we are made of.  What we value about ourselves and other.  What we hold most dearly about living life.  Isn't that hard?

I suppose you can say, well, you know if someone is anti-(fill in the blank here), that is what they wouldn't do.  Only I am not sure that is true.  What if it is your daughter who is raped and left pregnant at 14?  Until you stand in those shoes, can you truly say what you wouldn't do?  Maybe.  If  you knew there was a medication that would save a loved one from certain death, would you steal it if that was the only way to get it?  Do you know, until you are faced with those choices? So do the politicians have any way of sharing some 'tested-by-fire' morals they have? Or does their past behavior determine their future behavior? Do we forgive the past behavior in hopes the future will allow them to make better choices?

Those are extreme moral dilemmas, and of course, most of us will never have to face that in our lifetimes. Most of us will never plan to run for public office.  We do have to consider those choices carefully, as they will affect our lives in the future.  But consider also, that each of us are in some situation where we wield power.  We do face small moral issues each and every day, as we wield our personal power in life. We have power as teachers, as parents, as spouses...perhaps as chairpeople in organizations...the small ways that have the capacity to affect many.  How do we use the power we do have? How do we NOT use it?

I thought of my own shortcomings.  I have been criticized for being too understanding, too forgiving, too quick to trust, when it comes to dealing with students.  SO many times I have heard, "You are too nice to them."  When I consider this, I realize there is one thing I will NOT do:  I will not give up on giving trust. I refuse to live by reacting ahead of time to the worst my students could do.  Instead, I chose my actions based on what I won't do...which is begin at the point of distrust.  This doesn't mean I am a pushover, but I feel it has always served me well.  Sure, I have been burned, but have you ever experienced the loss of someone's trust in you?  It is devastating.  And is a better lesson for my students - and one I hope they remember - than if I had never given that trust. When I withhold my trust, it is with good reason.

So what will I not do? I will not live my life from a point of distrust of humanity.  Call it naive, trust is one of my core values.

Other than that, I am not sure what I would NOT do.  It is an interesting way to look at my actions, my perceptions, my travel through life.  What have I chosen NOT to do and what does that say about what I value? I am going to spend some more time chewing on this.  I wonder - are there things you have chosen NOT to do that tell others the most about the core of who you are?

Passing on wisdom...

Part of my journey back to school to get the Ph. D. was my desire to share the lessons I have learned through my own teaching with the next generation of music teachers. I hoped I could share these lessons in ways that would make their lives easier, make them smarter faster, in order to move the profession forward in new and exciting ways. Much like I hoped to share how I have arrived at this place in my life, battle-scarred and tired, but ultimately very happy, with my own children. Neither of these ideas have panned out the way I hoped that they would. This realization speaks to my transformation as well.

First of all, we are each the sum of our experiences. These complex interactions shape us, just as we shape the interactions we have, as we are having them. And as we think on past experiences, our thoughts shape who we are becoming and how we react to the next set of interactions. So though I can tell wonderful stories about my experiences, I can't prevent anyone from stepping smack dab into the middle of an unwelcome experience. I can be empathetic, just as I can make you feel you are not alone in this crazy profession. I can suggest tools and habits of mind to find your own way out...but I can't prevent them from happening.

Secondly, as much as we love our adult children, they don't believe us. They never seem to think our stories have a bearing on their lives. And to be fair, I am not sure as parents, we see them as they are! I often wonder if I have frozen them in some time warp of post-teenage-hood that doesn't allow me to really see who they have become as adults. I suppose it is the same with children being able to understand their parents as people. I want to soothe the pains of young adulthood, protect them from anything that would not allow them to be happy. Unfortunately, I can't prevent those experiences either, as much as I want to. I can only THINK about the tools and habits of mind I wish I had taught them when they were young and malleable. I don't dare offer bits of hard-won wisdom without an invitation to do so!

I thought being able to look back over all these years would allow me to give clarity to others. I realize now, this is not the point at all. The truth, my truth, is that I have found the clarity I need to move forward in my own life. I continue to weave the fabric of my life, just as my students and my children are weaving theirs. We each chose the threads we use, the colors we like, the designs we desire. Even as we swear we are unlucky or that something is happening to us, we are in the process of reacting, projecting, interpreting, the designs we weave into our lives. It is what living is all about.

I really wish I could wave a magic wand over those I love, those I care about, those I teach, and protect them from future regret, or allow them to feel the warmth of what is the promise of their futures. I can only stand on the sidelines and coach, sometimes quietly, sometimes noisily, with as much grace as I can muster, to be present through all the excitement, the joy, and the tears. And in the meantime, continue to work on any wisdom I can find, from those who have walked before me, allowing them to cheer me on from the sidelines.

Seeking wisdom....

So whenever I have faced major life changes, I start to have weird dreams. You know the kind - the ones that you can't shake after you wake up - or the ones where you simply can't decide whether you want to wake up when you are in them!

I haven't dreamed of my grandfather since his death. I adored all my grandparents, but I was born on my grandfather's birthday and somehow that made our relationship much more significant. It very well would have been anyway, as I was the first grandchild, but those are the cards that were dealt. The last dream I had of him was the evening of his death and was one of those dreams I shared with a friend because it was so significant to me at the time.

Since then, Grandpa has been absent from my dreams until last night. I dreamed Mark & I went in search of my grandparents, and we found Grandpa Swank. I can't tell you much more than that, except that I remember the feeling of having found him again. It was glorious! Of course, we eventually knew we had to go, and I cried and cried, not wanting to leave. He walked me down a stretch of beach and kept telling me I had the answers and not to worry - everything would be fine and work out just as it should. He smiled and waved and walked away. I, however, looked back at him and ahead to where my husband stood waiting, and laid face down on the damp sand, wondering how my memories of my grandparents being gone could still feel so painful. I laid there crying, trying to remember all the details of their faces, remembering being little and having them hold me, the way they smelled, their voices...and yet, I knew I had to stand up. I just didn't want to!

Of course, then Mark woke me up saying I was snoring like a submarine! Interesting, since the ocean was in my dream...

So here is my analysis! I am not superstitious nor particularly religious, but I do believe that we seek answers to our 'issues' within our dreams. It is our mind's way of working out that which troubles us most. I can summarize the forthcoming move, the uncertainty of the future, though exciting, has me a bit on edge. Dreaming of grandparents is a way of searching for love, wisdom, guidance, and perhaps the safety of being a child and being cared for. I had to look up what beaches mean, as I am not a beach girl...and I do think that we are conditioned and certain symbols may be true within a culture. In dream interpretations, beaches may be symbolic of transitions...and the state of the ocean, symbolic of my own interpretation of this transition. Well, thank goodness the water was relatively calm and the sky was pleasant. I would say I am working through the changes coming at me in a good way. Seeking wisdom from those I care about in the real world, facing the changes with as much grace as I can muster, even when what I really want to do is lay down and cry a bit about it.

I remember a friend telling me that her experiences doing her Ph.D. work were part of a very special time in her life. I understand that completely now. In spite of the intellectual and personal dissonance that comes with growth as both an academic and a person, it has been a magical, wonderful time, full of much joy for me. The flip side of joy is despair, but there have been few moments of that. Maybe those are yet to come. But I must breach the bubble of safety to continue to grow, and I know this. I may not like it, as it means leaving people I have grown to love, admire, respect, and depend on. I suppose the dream means I have the wisdom I need to move forward, if I will just trust myself to do so.

So thanks to my loving family, once more, I find the grounding of my early years paying off dividends as I begin yet another chapter in my life. Now to figure out how to stop the snoring....