Mother's Day

• The moment I was most proud of my mom: 

• It was early after she had had her stroke and there was some possibility in the physical therapist's mind that my mother could stand and walk.  I was in the room then, and I watched my mother struggle with everything she had to get to the edge of the bed, to wiggle her butt to the lip of the bed -- all hooked up to wires and lines, her heart rate going crazy -- then try to get up.  The nurse and PT were holding onto an arm, each under an elbow, and they tried.  My mom's face was so earnest and hopeful.   And, after not being successful, they positioned her back into bed, and my mom gave them a half-face smile and whispered "Thank you."  That's the way I grew to know my mother in the later part of her life.  Someone who was willing to try and someone who was always always politely appreciative of the help others gave her.  
• Things I learned from watching what my mother did or did not do: 
• be kind to strangers
• laugh loudly (the loudest in the room)
• have a sense of humor, but not in a cutting way
• flirt with people, at least a little 
• decorate with color
• serve the world however you can
• I should have learned to type
• crying is okay
• a hot temper is a dangerous thing
• swearing is not so attractive 
• sing a lot, as much as you can
• write letters, sign them always with the word "love"
• how to host a party
• how to watch a Superbowl Game 
• watching the Oscars is important and should always be celebrated with all kinds of treats 
• how to use proper grammar 
  
• roseacia 
• flat wide feet
• Emily Post is an important friend to have
• show up at events to support the people you love
• when you fall down, get back up
• write thank you notes, and do so in a timely manner
• how to help someone die
• how to swim laps 
• The decision my mother made that I still regret even though I am way too old for that shit:
• When signing up for high school classes, mom insisted that I take AP english because she did, AP math because it just seemed right, and general science because 3 APs would be too hard for me.  Despite all of this writing (a skill that came later in life, and was non-existent in high school), I really was a science kid and three APs would have been very doable.  I wanted to be a geneticist before genetics was cool.  I wish she had heard my request, or that I had been brave enough to not be so compliant.  
• What I want to tell my mom having visited my childhood home last weekend for the first time in 30 years:
• Even though the house you designed, Mom, was a bit too busy for me, you had classy style and good taste.  Your house looked like a home.  I'm glad you didn't have to see the current schema - odd paint colors, cracked ceilings and junked up front porch.  Your deck, with the red geraniums in the flower boxes, is always what I think of when I picture spring.  
• Something I want to apologize to my mom about:
• One day, you came to watch me play tennis on court ten.  I can still picture you there all by yourself offering support. I was not playing well, and my inner John McEnroe was exploding inside (and outside too).  For some reason, I attributed my poor play and anxiety to you and I screamed at you, without any warning, "Leave, get out of here, I need you to go."  And you did -- you did exactly what I told you to do.  Now, when I think about that moment, I cry because it was cruel, unnecessary.  And emblematic of the many ways you tried to show me love, and I pushed it and you away.  I'm sorry. 
• I'd also like to say that I teased you too much and too publicly.  It hurt you so much and I'm sorry to have acted that way.  Forgive me. 
• Something my mom bragged about, though I am not quite sure why:
• The "only time (she) got arrested" (never a great way to start a sentence) was when she and some some high school friends went skinny dipping in the pools on Parkland and were caught with a few cans of beer in their car. Yes, my mom was that girl in high school. 
• And another thing that she bragged about too: 
• she had the highest IQ at Onaway School in second grade.  It's a nice feat, for sure, but nothing a middle aged woman should hold onto. Kind of like the way I pull out my ____ SAT math score.  Really Jean, I think, is that important now? 
  
• Costumes my mother made my brother and me wear for Halloween or 4th of July parades:
• Mary Poppins and Bert, the chimney sweep 
• Frankenstein and the Bride of Frankenstein 
• Adam and Eve (no joke) -- wearing strategically placed large leaves over our bathing suits 
• And odd thing that happened last Wednesday having to do with my mom: 
• Someone I have been dating, off and on, said that -- in the middle of the night (3:29 to be exact), a woman spirit came to her and said, "Hi _____, I'm Sally.  I have come to ask you to take care of Jean."  The person replied, "But Jean does not want me to take care of her," to which my mother said, "That's my fault."  Part of me wants to believe some part of this story, very much.  
• One conversation with my mom that changed the way I saw her completely and taught me a huge amount about living: 
• We were on the short wall outside of my parents house on Lebanon Hills, and my mom said, "I knew my whole life that my father loved your aunt more than me.  He even told me so."  It made it all so clear: her need for approval, her need for attention from others, her craving for love.  
  
  My whole heart softened towards my mother because I realized that she was a woman, and had been a child, and she had had and was having a whole life experience outside of her role as a mother.  It also made awash in empathy for her.  Bloody sad, really terribly grief stricken for her and what was placed on her. 
• One conversation I had with my mother that may have changed my life had I answered differently:
• When we were in a parking lot in South Park in December of 1980, my mother asked me if I were gay, and I said no.  Who knows how the whole thing would have played out if I would have known to say yes, or if she had known to ask again or press me a bit.  I think about the years of deep depression and fear that could have been tamed.  It's funny how one word catapults a life's trajectory. 
• Five songs I would love to hear my mom sing again:
• Sing, by The Carpenters 
• Monday, Monday, by then Mamas and The Papas
• (Well, actually any song by Karen Carpenter and The Mamas and The Papas)
• Downtown, by Petula Clark
• Silent Night 
• Ode to Joy
• A story I will always remember that my mother told me: 
• She had been driving a man to cancer treatments and, after some months, he died.  As my mother always did, because of proper etiquette, she attended the memorial at the funeral home.  She came home and told me that there had only been five people in the room.  The patient, the patient's sister, a minister, a man from the funeral home, and her.  There's something so tender and heart breaking in that story.  That my mom showed up, for sure, but also -- for as long as I can remember, I have wanted to lead a life that ends with lots of people at the service because then I will have known that I lived in a way that I had interacted meaningfully with others.  Somehow, that little off hand tale, shaped my whole life.  Made me more engaged. 
• Things I inherited from my mother that I am happy about: 
• her hair 
• the highest IQ in Onaway School in second grade (though I am sure that mine was no where near the highest in any grade at any school.)  I'm fortunate to have been born to smart parents
• her friendliness
• her athletic ability
• Things that I inherited from my mother that I am less happy about: 
• roseacia 
• flat wide feet
• a propensity to catch a toe on any bump and cascade down in a most awkward and alarming way
• What I wish my mother had talked with me about: 
• Love
• Dating
• How to make and keep friends
• Her childhood
• Her dreams 
• What she felt and learned as she got older 
• That little pink booklet they handed out to all of the girls in sixth grade
• The things my mother did while she was just-a-stay-at-home mom, to name a few:
• PTO room mother including giving annual talks about what happens at The School for Blind Children 
• Kappa Alpha Theta: University of Pittsburgh House advisor, start-up advisor for new chapters in the region, College District President, National scholarship chair
• Southminster Church deacon and greeter 
• Food delivery to folks in public housing
• Driver for cancer patients who did not have a way to get to treatments
• Softball scorer, Little League cheerer
• Things I wish my mother could have seen me do in the last six years: 
• Travel to the southwest
• Survive a heartbreak
• Make friends in a way I had not been able to do at that point as an adult
• Preach a sermon
• Speak to the Presbytery about  G-10 
• Six more poetry plays
• My new spring garden, with its pink rabbit
•  Other things I wish my mother had been able to see in the last six years: 
• Her grandchildren growing up -- such good and beautiful people
• Her son's success in marriage, fatherhood and work
• His wife, their marriage and happiness.  The extended family in Mark's life. 
  
• Her husband's ability to cope with strength and faith
• His new home, a place she would have loved
• More Christmases, man, how she loved Christmas

• My mom's friends that really made an impact on my life too:
• Susan Smith
• Mary Lee and Joe
• The Thompsons 
• All of those Theta friends and Wisconsin friends and Shaker friends that stayed in touch over the years.  There was something about my mom and her generation that was uniquely bond to long-term friendships.  I have not had great luck in that -- not the kind she had.  It was a powerful thing to see the way they all supported each other across time and place for decades.  
• The worst advice my mother ever gave me
• don't wear orange
• people from the south are usually dumb (Totally not true, Jennifer Hubbard, if you are reading this)
• go on dates with guys because they will buy you dinner
• The meal I wish my mother could make for me one more time:
• So simple: steak (actually dad would be cooking that), baked potato, zucchini with mozzarella and bacon, and a salad served in the ceramic salad bowl. 
• or Fondue night
• or eggs benedict with sour cream coffee cake

• The best sentence my mother ever wrote to me: 
• "I love you and have only ever wanted you to be happy." Me too, Mom, me too.