That is simply lovely. Please, please keep writing and keeping up the conversation with us, who smile whenever your name comes up, and when a new column arrives. Thank you.
It has been so great to find you here. I thought you had been so culturally cancelled that you would be hiding in that corner of the basement for the rest of my life. Makes sense that I found you here among people who still think writing is a thing. My mother was the oldest of ten midwestern children. Ironically I’m an only child. She always would say though that she loved all her children to keep me humble I think. 🤔
Surely the writer knows that good mid-westerners do not make an ostentatious show of their feelings. Hence the stone face, the lowered brow and the grim affect. it's a sure sign of mid-western origins.
And you made me smile. Happy Birthday to your mother, and my mom (whose 114th birthday is coming up) and all the wise and loving women who raised us. My lord, we need them now so much.
Mission accomplished - honoring your mother AND making us smile! Definitely makes me want to be a grandmother someday. I have two young adult sons, and yes, love them equally! I hope someday when they are reminiscing about their Mom, they find and feel the love and beauty amidst all of the hard work it took to raise them. Thank you for this.
I got my mother's browner hair, shorter stature, and more artistic ability compared to my brothers. She was a beautiful woman overwhelmed with eight kids, four in the first five years of marriage. Mom and dad were both funny, mom more of a wit, dad had a million jokes. Because he repeated them so often, I find myself saying, "like my dad used to say..." more than anyone I know. But when I make a wisecrack or make something beautiful, I know that's mom. Not everyone has sweet memories of their parents. We are lucky, you and me, Garrison.
My father sold pencils on the streets of downton Cincinnati during the depression and watched his best friends get blown apart during the war. He was a difficult man to love. He treated my mother with disrepect. He was distant, shunned doctors and died at 75 due to a largely manageable disease that ran amuck in his blood and finally set in his bones. But I am thankful to him (and to my mother for staying with him through it all). I also was not a good son. Thank you for writing about your mother in this beautiful essay.
That is simply lovely. Please, please keep writing and keeping up the conversation with us, who smile whenever your name comes up, and when a new column arrives. Thank you.
You’re a good son, after all.
It has been so great to find you here. I thought you had been so culturally cancelled that you would be hiding in that corner of the basement for the rest of my life. Makes sense that I found you here among people who still think writing is a thing. My mother was the oldest of ten midwestern children. Ironically I’m an only child. She always would say though that she loved all her children to keep me humble I think. 🤔
Surely the writer knows that good mid-westerners do not make an ostentatious show of their feelings. Hence the stone face, the lowered brow and the grim affect. it's a sure sign of mid-western origins.
“….and I should do something special in her honor, such as write something about her that 𝙢̲𝙖̲𝙠̲𝙚̲𝙨̲ ̲𝙮̲𝙤̲𝙪̲ ̲𝙛̲𝙚̲𝙚̲𝙡̲ ̲𝙜̲𝙤̲𝙤̲𝙙̲.”
This makes you a great son!
My 96 year old mom passed at Thanksgiving, thank you for making me smile.
My mama tried but I feel that way about my grandma.
Really enjoyed reading this! As a mother of three very grown sons and a grandma, I was very tempted to forward this on to them but resisted the urge.
And you made me smile. Happy Birthday to your mother, and my mom (whose 114th birthday is coming up) and all the wise and loving women who raised us. My lord, we need them now so much.
Mission accomplished - honoring your mother AND making us smile! Definitely makes me want to be a grandmother someday. I have two young adult sons, and yes, love them equally! I hope someday when they are reminiscing about their Mom, they find and feel the love and beauty amidst all of the hard work it took to raise them. Thank you for this.
Moms are there for us in various capacities, GK. Gladdened we are due of it. God bless Them all!
https://dandana.us/micros/M017iwantmymother.pdf
Thanks for supplying an option, quite thoughtful of you.
Beautiful.
Mission accomplished, your fond remembrances of your mother made me smile and fondly recall my own mom.
I got my mother's browner hair, shorter stature, and more artistic ability compared to my brothers. She was a beautiful woman overwhelmed with eight kids, four in the first five years of marriage. Mom and dad were both funny, mom more of a wit, dad had a million jokes. Because he repeated them so often, I find myself saying, "like my dad used to say..." more than anyone I know. But when I make a wisecrack or make something beautiful, I know that's mom. Not everyone has sweet memories of their parents. We are lucky, you and me, Garrison.
My father sold pencils on the streets of downton Cincinnati during the depression and watched his best friends get blown apart during the war. He was a difficult man to love. He treated my mother with disrepect. He was distant, shunned doctors and died at 75 due to a largely manageable disease that ran amuck in his blood and finally set in his bones. But I am thankful to him (and to my mother for staying with him through it all). I also was not a good son. Thank you for writing about your mother in this beautiful essay.
I live this piece, such a lovely arc. If I were not grandchild-less I would show it to my kids.