Showing posts with label day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label day. Show all posts

Sunday, May 11, 2014

One of the Better Mommies

What can I say about the woman who had my hands, my face and even my laugh years before I did? I can say she is a blessing. I can say she's still my friend and I can say she's still one of the funniest people I've ever met. And she's all of that to my children, too.


My mother in her glorious youth.
My mother was and is a rarity. When I was a child, I counted on her to know it all and she never disappointed. She could open every stubborn wrapper, soothe the bloodiest of toes stubbed on the barefoot runs of summer and sing just like Julie Andrews - to my ears anyhow. And in my child's universe, she and I were everything that mattered most.

I remember hiding behind her skirts when my father would come home playfully roaring, "Where's T.C.!" I recall wobbling like a drunken aerialist just trying to walk in her high heels, as if I could ever fill her shoes. And there was no safer place on earth than her lap when J.F.K. was assassinated and all I understood was that John-John's daddy had been so very badly hurt.

A year or so after the death of J.F.K, she took me to see Bambi and I turned and stared at her dumbfounded in the dark as she cried when Bambi's mother saved his life only to die herself and when Bambi called for her, not comprehending her absence. Years later, when I was a mother, I understood painfully well what had made her cry that day.

As I phased into adolescence, I liked her far too much to seriously consider rebelling, and would lie in bed with her at night, the two of us laughing ourselves sick until my father would come in, laughing at our laughing and boot me out. As my interest in film history grew, we went to more and more movies together. She saw to it that I was exposed to theatre, took my brothers and me to museums and lectures and saw me through college and my first foolish mistake of a marriage.

My brother often refers to her as, "One of the better mommies."

That she was, and is, and always will be.

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

A Perfectly Beautiful Son

Mother's Day will be here soon, so I thought I'd reach way down deep in the memory drawer and pull something out that I wrote years ago and haven't looked at in a while.

A picture of me with my own son


A woman once told me about the day when her son, born with cerebral palsy, came into the house upset because some neighborhood kids had been bullying him. She stood with him in front of the full-length mirror she kept in her bedroom and said, "Look at yourself. That's your body and it's beautiful." 

After she told me that story, I wrote this poem for her. I'm sharing it here for all the mothers of children with disabilities. Your children are amazing, and they have made you more amazing too and probably stronger than you ever thought you could be. Happy Almost Mother's Day to all of you.

A Perfectly Beautiful Son


"I'm crippled and useless; the kids say I am."

"You're my perfectly beautiful son."


"Mommy, how can you say that when you know how I look?"


"You're my perfectly beautiful son. You look like your father. You're lucky, my pet. He's handsome and strong. Can't you see? You belong. Be proud, my beautiful son."


"My feet drag on the ground; I fall down all the time."


"You're my perfectly beautiful son. And when you fall down, you get right back up. You've never stayed down and I know you won't now. Get up, my beautiful son."


"My hands always shake; I spill everything."


"You're my perfectly beautiful son. And when your hands shake, I will hold them in mine. It will steady us both; not just you but me, too. Hold tight, my beautiful son."


"My speech comes out funny; people can't understand."


"You're my perfectly beautiful son. And when I hear you speak, I hear magical sounds. The words are so clear and their meanings so dear. Speak out, my beautiful son."


"People think that I'm weak, just because I'm so small."


"You're my perfectly beautiful son. And your heart's grown so strong, how could you be weak? To me you're so mighty, sometimes I can't speak. Stand tall, my beautiful son."


"The kids have been saying I'll wind up alone."


"You're my perfectly beautiful son. You have so much to give and a great life to live. And when the day comes that a girl sees this too, I'll love her so much - but not like I love you. But I'll love her to pieces, and I'll shout to the world, 'My son's found his true love! What a perfectly beautiful girl!"