One thing in all these two surreal years I could not arrange, organize, make neat and tidy, or even make work, however, was a Mom in lockdown. I imposed with a fierceness, and did everything in my power to ensure, a fortress around her life. Try as I might to create and fill with whatever cheer I could find on a daily basis to "Camp Mommy" with books, conversations, movie suggestions, lessons on hairstyling -she had not done her own hair in 60 years, email links to rabbit hole sites, suggestions for how to play bridge online, book and magazine drop-offs, and grocery deliveries filled with fun food...she was still sheltered, albeit comfortably, in one place-alone. Having to impose yet another lock-down early this winter was not met with full compliance. Yes, Mother’s “misbehave”! She did "escape" once or twice from my carefully planned fortress and incurred the sheer blinding panic-driven overblown wrath of an overwrought daughter, she seriously has not let that go! Throughout all this insane time I always insisted that "I got this"-this telling the universe not to come near! Taking on a role that she sees as hers and I insist is mine. We played continuous round robins of who is better at protecting whom, who is really in charge, and whose role is it really?? and through each check-in I heard my voice and I heard "The Voice" that has been firmly implanted -that Mom recording that I hit "Play" on again and again and again. Yes, I learned well-perhaps too well, but here I am still hitting the play button on a voice that I don't want to hear for myself yet find automatically flying out of me. The voice of my Mom and her Mom.
That voice that lectures remind, pushes, and frets and worries, oh yes that voice worries-a lot! That voice comes from a source that was planted through generations. Even though my Grandmother is no longer here she would be happy to know that the Muzak she implanted in both her daughter and in me plays every day! WWND?-What Would Nana Do? makes us smile, laugh, and remember. By some extraordinary string that will always connect us, we still do it Nana's way, with our own twist, but Nana is in there in every fiercely determined instruction, lecture, reprimand, and laugh! How lucky I am -I got those voices in stereo! There is my Nana's Muzak and there is my Mother's- not surprisingly very similar tunes. Of course, it is not just the "do it my way" tunes that I hear each day but more profoundly the emotional songs that have taken root in my being. The roots that hold me firmly in place, perhaps too much some days, come from knowing without any hesitation or embarrassment that I keep playing those tunes because I need to hear that "noise"...and I have learned once again through these crazy days that it is clear I always will.
"If at first you don't succeed, try doing it the way mom told you to in the beginning."
~Unknown
I need the voice of the ones who love me no matter what! I may not always get it right but there is no auditioning or interviewing here. Even when the raincoat is in the car keeping the car dry, I know that if I get wet there is always shelter, just hit the play button. If you are lucky in this life the bond with your Mom is the simplest, and many times the most complicated, one you will ever have. I am THAT lucky! There is nothing more basic or necessary than being loved completely and knowing that love sustains, motivates, and grounds you. The string that runs from Mom to child is the most powerful and lasting connection there will ever be. We may walk through different doors painted different colors but we are usually going in the same direction... together! (much like the time we discovered we were in adjacent dressing rooms in Bloomingdales!)
"Life doesn't come with a manual, it comes with a mother."
~ Unknown
The definition of a Mom cannot be found in a Hallmark card, in an ad for cake mix, or on a rerun of a 70s sitcom. A Mom is defined by her life's work which stems from her soul and the most remarkable bond there can be. As we witness the Moms of Ukraine move heaven and earth to keep their children out of harm's way, placing themselves in peril very often to do this, as we watch them push forward with no idea of what lies ahead just to ensure their children have some sense of stability amidst chaos and horrific options, we are seeing the definition of Motherhood. Leaving everything they have ever known, in an instant, with only what they can literally carry including favorite teddy bears and warm clothes, and with no sense of when or if they will ever be able to bring their children back “home.” Heartbreaking. Painful. Unimaginable. These are the choices that Moms make -not for themselves, but for their children-first and foremost, their children. So a Mom can run a country if that was her choice, but her Momdom is probably at the core of everything she does-her compass. Her real mission is not found in any public-facing material success but in the knowledge that there is a perpetual work in progress out there that will always hear her music, always need her tune to be played, and always love her, even when through periods when they may be on different galaxies, speaking different languages-that core essential thread running through them both, a thread that began long before they did, is always pulling them back to center, back “home”.
As we slowly, very slowly Mom-are you listening!, make attempts to move forward from this surreal time we can actually plan a Mother's Day even if we are still popping on a pretty mask. I realize with all that still is not right, and all that the world is facing, that the moms of the world are facing each day, one thing is holding up...a tradition. For us that tradition looks a whole lot different from the many Mother's Days past, the Mother’s Day crowd is just two and a tradition that I recognize with great pain that far too many cannot do at all. The horrors of this moment in time take my breath away, it cannot be absorbed, it is so large, so overwhelming. All the more reason to do everything within my power to ensure that tradition, no matter how altered, endures. The voices that I carry, that I rely on, and always will, of a Mother and a Grandmother who help me steer my own ship, and whose life’s work matters to me very much! they will be celebrated! on this Mother's Day and everyday!
Happy Mother's Day Mummy...job well done, but never really finished! I will always be your “work in progress” I love you!
"A mother is not a person to lean on, but a person to make leaning unnecessary."
~ Dorothy Canfield Fisher
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