Posts Tagged ‘love’

Mother’s Day musings…

Monday, May 11th, 2009

I hope everyone had a Happy Mother’s Day weekend—BIG HUG! This is a time that can be bittersweet for many, especially if your Mother is on the other side of the veil… or if you are thinking of a Grandmother who has gone on to glory. I’m right there with those folks who’ve experienced such a profound loss. Folks who still have “Mom” around have a different view; it’s impossible to describe the void when Mother’s Day rolls around and you don’t have your Mom. So, I’ll share some brief thoughts on what helped me make the return to Mother’s Day as a happy occasion (and, yes, having great kids around you helps immensely.)

I don’t have to tell anybody who has (or who had) a fantastic mother and/or grandmother, how much of an anchor this soul is in one’s life. We are talking about the person who carried you (in the case of one’s mother) up under her heart for 9 months… or in the case of a grandmother, that’s who pressed you to her breasts and comforted away all your boo boos. These fierce women warriors would love you hard as well as spank your behind, because they loved you enough to try turn you into a civilized human being (LOL) – preferring that they’d send you for a switch than to have an unforgiving world spank you later in harsh terms when you grew up. They poured positive values and self-confidence, love, discipline, respect, integrity, and so much more that is indefinable into your heart, mind, and spirit, all while also nourishing your body and protecting you from harm as best they could with whatever resources they had.

These women are the one’s who prayed for you when your your problems were too big for them to handle alone, prayed to Jesus that they not kill you when you got on their last nerve (LOL), prayed that goodness would always find you… always wanted more for you than they wanted or had for themselves, hoped for you harder than they hoped for themselves, and cried tears of joy for you when you came into the world… or got dressed to the nines for your senior prom or won awards or graduated or got married — pick a milestone. That’s love.

And, yeah, they also made mistakes simply because these ladies were/are human. But as we got older we also learned that the mistakes they made were because “we kids” didn’t come with an owner’s manual, and whatever happened wasn’t due to a lack of love—so we still love the source of any annoyance or pain they bestowed upon us in the raising of us, regardless.

So, with all that said, how in the heck can you look forward to the holiday if you don’t have those ladies in your life any more? Well, I’m not saying it’s easy, but it does require a shift in perspective… because let’s face it, when it comes to Mom not being around, I don’t care how old you are, the first time it hits you—you feel orphaned.

I know this because my grandmothers and mother are all gone… my older Aunties—those great ladies in much of my writing are all gone. This year my cousins called me up, bereft, because their mother was gone (happened last year to many of them), and no one knew what to do… even though we’re all mothers.

That made me realize that my mother must have also gone through this when my grandmother died. Funny (ironic) how you never seem to think of your mother as having a weak spot. That’s like kryptonite to a super hero, the deity of Mom. Yet, as kids, we never knew (or saw) her experience that loss to its fullest extent. That made me think back on what she used to do to, probably to help her cope.

Here’s the “Helen” recipe…

1. Leading up to Mother’s Day, she brought fresh cut flowers into the house—something bright like daffodils, because my grandma’s fav color was yellow.

2. She made a butter pound cake—the only thing she could bake (my grandma’s recipe—and my Mom was NOT a baker… she was good with other types of stuff, but a baker she wasn’t.)

3. She wore a piece of my grandmother’s jewelry on that day… and we kids filled in the rest with our crayon-decorated cards and burned pancakes with under-cooked bacon, which she seemed to relish.

Now, older, I realized what she was doing—she was honoring the life my grandmother led by keeping a part of her alive. She’d have on gospel in the kitchen while she was baking and having her own communion with that great ancestor—and we never realized it. My grandma loved her gospel; my mom was an Episcopalian by marriage… so when the gospel came on, it meant Mom was going deep into her roots for some sustenance and strength.

Then, I remembered something she’d told me long ago. Helen said, “Honey, there is nothing I want more in this world than for my children to be happy.” She didn’t say successful, married, famous, nothing like that. She didn’t identify a career path or a station in life for us (she never added a disclaimer or qualifier that would make HER happy.) Her statement was simple and unselfish. She just wanted us to be happy, by whatever definition we used to determine joy.

Think about how profound that is. Grieving, unhappiness, not living one’s dreams, feeling guilt, anguish, doubt… pick a negative emotion—that means that all your mother’s hopes and dreams are being dashed when you allow that into your space. It means that everything she sacrificed so that you didn’t have to go through some of her tough roads and battles was for naught. Therefore, by extension that means, to honor your mother—shine.

Thrive, dance, sing, be of good cheer, do your best, reach for the stars. Especially if your mother is an angel on your shoulder now, (or if your grandmother is), then wouldn’t they want the very best for you? That means joy must be at the foundation of your life. Deep, abiding, joy. That’s what a mother wants. If you’re a mother, you know that when your children aren’t happy, you aren’t happy. But when they are doing well in all their endeavors, when your kids are thriving, you as a Mom are on top of the world.

I hope this rambling is making sense (smile.) Forgive me for going off on a tangent, but I had to do this blog on the day after Mother’s Day, hoping to reach out to someone who was having a rough time. I wanted to say gently, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s gonna be alright. Keep that great lady near you; honor her traditions on the day you miss her most, so she’ll be a little closer to you. Bring a piece of her back alive through you or your kids, and give your children a piece of their grandmother’s love through you.”

The one thing I’ve found about love is this, the more you give it out, the more it returns to you from the most unexpected sources. When that happens, I’m convinced that it’s the angels speaking through people. You know what I mean… like when you do a nice gesture for a neighbor, totally expecting nothing in return—then somebody you don’t know in the supermarket let’s you ahead of their full cart in line because you only have a few items.

Mundane, but magical, moments like that happen all the time. They tell me there is something out there bigger than me in the Universe… and if I believe that, then I know Mom and Nana are still around smiling, loving me and mine, and dancing when I put flowers in my house and make a pound cake. I know your mother angels are dancing for you, too.

BIG HUG and sending out love and Light,

Leslie!

CHANGE!!!!

Wednesday, November 5th, 2008

Last night I screamed myself silly and wept tears of joy until this morning I sound like a raspy old wino. No matter. Because every tear was for my mother and father—who didn’t make it to see this world event… the election of a man who was finally judged by the content of his character and not the color of his skin. It said something so profoundly wonderful about this America… because not one group made this happen.

Seas of people, black, white, brown, young, old, straight, gay, rich, poor, educated, less educated, employed, unemployed—the gamut of the human Diaspora in a wonderful rainbow of hues and complex ideologies stood up together and said loud and clear and with authority—“Yes we can!”

I took that chant with me into the voting booth, a mantra in my mind… yes, we can be a better nation; yes, we can treat people better; yes, we can be better global citizens; yes, we can be our brother’s and sister’s keepers; yes, we can care about and feed the hungry; yes, we can do the unimaginable; yes, we can live up to our ideals; yes, we can fix this economy and put some justice back into the distribution of wealth; yes, we can believe that an African American man can truly love a woman honorably… and raise his children right, and call that classy, sexy woman, “First Lady,” without affairs and drama and madness and mess… yes, we can believe in a better future. So I wept.

I screamed and cried and did the happy dance in the middle of my floor. I blew up cell phones and landlines, talking on two phones at once. I wept and screamed and stomped like we’d won the World Series—because we as a nation have. I could feel the respect returning through the airwaves from other countries to soak into my skin—when I travel I no longer have to hang my head in shame as an “ugly American.” We have behaved badly abroad for way too long.

When I recently went to the Bahamas on book tour, the local folks repeatedly pulled me aside, anxious, and asking the question, “Do you think he will win? We are all so hopeful worldwide; we will come to Florida to help America celebrate.” This is what foreigners said about us here in the United States. They told me this in Customs. They told me this in cabs. They told me this in restaurants. They told me this in hotels. Everywhere we went, and my family can testify, since they too were there—people stopped us once they found out we were Americans and said how they wished they could vote with us to help the change come. I told them that I believed in this nation; that a chance was gonna come, as old folks say… could feel it in me bones, chile. So last night I cried while laughing and simply shaking my head. I felt so many emotions at once, it’s still hard to catalogue them, I’m still processing my own inner change and how I feel.

But most of all, I could feel the sudden sweep of joy-filled peace, that sort of supernatural peace that surpasses all understanding when I finally closed my eyes and laid my head on my pillow knowing in my soul… yes we can!

Much love, One Love, World Peace!
Stay in the Light… Hugs from Philadelphia, PA — A TRUE BLUE STATE!
***Leslie