May Means Gratitude
Nine years ago this morning, I became a grandmother. The nesting dolls of my maternal lineage continued into yet another generation. Experiencing this magnificent turn of events felt nothing like the sugarcoated, swirly-scripted Mother’s Day greeting cards, Mylar balloons, and carnation arrangements that choke every supermarket entrance.
That day nine years ago felt like time travel.
When I held my granddaughter for the first time, it felt like holding her mother for the first time all over again. I marveled at her perfect rosebud lips, drank in the length of her eyelashes, and studied the shape of her hands — my hands, her mother’s hands, her aunt’s hands, my mother’s hands. A living miracle.
I was filled with awe for what is, and with a deeper understanding of how motherhood has shaped who I am and how I move through the world. I remembered the day, more than forty years ago in Oklahoma, when I transitioned from being a young woman into being a mother.
I remember my own fierce, naïve determination to correct the past by willing myself into a future I could only imperfectly imagine. Clearly, I did not know what I did not know. In hind sight I’m learning how to be kinder to myself about all the misguided mistakes made over these past four decades.
Today I am in awe of what my mother faced with courage, grit, and grace. Through it all, she held fast to her belief in the importance of enriching one’s life through music, books, food, friendship and family. She taught us that manners matter. That New Hampshire maple syrup was better than Maine maple syrup. That routines are helpful for children.
Even while she was so vastly outnumbered and overwhelmed by circumstance, she maintained a dignified sense of what was possible. The music, always the music a consistent touchstone of love and appreciation for us all. Thanks Ma. From here to eternity and back. Thank you.
We, the life-givers, bear the weight of being fully present to the human condition in all its beauty and tragedy. We are asked to transform what feels unthinkable into what becomes possible. We who grow and give life create magic out of the ordinary and somehow keep moving forward through all that comes.
My hope is not to sugarcoat what it means to be a mother, but rather to hold the tension between what is beautiful and tragic in this existence, and still choose to work toward creating a more beautiful, more kind, more joyful, more delicious reality for us all.
Happy Mother’s Day — full of gratitude for all that is, for all that brought us to this point, and with love and solidarity for whatever comes next. May we face it with grit, grace, and love.
Yesterday I was reminded how grateful I am to live in a place where creative energy and generosity come in so many forms. Yesterday’s illumination arrived in the form of a micro-bakery “moving at the speed of joy.” What a gift to be part of a community of people who believe in the power of generosity and in the power of creating joy.
Come join us as we celebrate the kickoff of the summer series at the 5th Maine Regiment Museum — Friday, May 15 at 7pm with Chris Moore and Yard Sauce.