I wish to honor my mother, the professor’s daughter who married into the collapse of the American dream. The woman who coaxed weavils out of home-made granola, cultured yogurt in Kerr jars in a water bath in our dilapidated oven, and tried forty-five different ways to hide goat meat in suppers; who withstood accusations of Satanic possession or insufficient faith to protect her family from her partner’s mental illness through divorce; who took calls from threatening neighbors angry that I would walk to school in winter without a coat (I hid it by the door as I left each morning); who held me as I cried about schoolyard bullies, whom I held as she cried about the monstrosity of desperate poverty and her defunct marriage; whom I proudly carried on my shoulders when I turned twelve and was taller than she; who was God’s messenger to her agnostic son in 1990, the human mediator of my conversion; who authored my favorite devotional phrase (“God is not a vending machine”); who taught me by example to love the printed and spoken word; who married again, badly, and divorced again, well; who creates life and survives tornados in America’s middle section; who scolded me for giving my only winter coat to a homeless man one Christmas then apologized years later as she helped me understand the complex valences of charity and Christ’s love; who has one of the most creative and wide-ranging minds I know; who is the beloved mother-in-law and granny to the people I love most in the world; who is more Hermes plus Athena than Gaia, and who is me and I her.
God bless you, Mom, for all that we are and clumsily strive to be. I am of all men most blessed.
May 11, 2008 at 10:41 am
Blessings to the mum of Sam and Amri and myriad other siblings. That’s quite a tribute, Sam, and well deserved.
May 11, 2008 at 11:36 am
Please add my voice to the tribute. Your mother is wonderful!
May 11, 2008 at 11:46 am
Beautiful tribute.
May 11, 2008 at 12:43 pm
What a wonderful mother- and a lovely tribute.
May 11, 2008 at 2:35 pm
Beautiful Sam. Simply beautiful.
May 11, 2008 at 4:04 pm
“All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man ever does. That’s his.”
Oscar Wilde
May 11, 2008 at 9:09 pm
Bless her heart.
I like that line “God is not a vending machine” and wish her peace and joy at last.
Why did you hide your coat each morning?
May 11, 2008 at 9:36 pm
She has found peace and joy at last. She’s phenomenal as a mother.
Re: the coat, it was too dang hot. When I was in medical school, I used to climb in the Presidential Range (White Mountains of NH) shirtless with my mountaineering bibs unzipped to the waist whenever it was warmer than 20F. What was hard for her was that the neighbors accused her of child abuse and threatened to call child protective services. That’s part of why my giving away my coat to a homeless man was hard for her.
I think it’s because I was a kid in Montana when it was still wonderfully, brutally cold.
May 12, 2008 at 6:41 am
Oooooh, that’s wicked good. God bless yours, mine, and all the other great mothers.
May 12, 2008 at 7:50 am
Thanks for that essay.
May 16, 2008 at 10:17 am
‘God is not a vending machine’ is really, really good.