email page to a friendMother's Day
During the last few years of her life Anne McDonough would often comment on how useless she had become. Typically she would say this in reference to some frustration, like fumbling with something she used to do easily- like doing up a button, tying a knot, playing Mozart on the piano, opening a can of tuna. Always the frustrations were about limitations in her daily living. As a child on her parents' farm she had seen a prairie fire burn around her while standing in water up to her shoulders. As a teenager she played piano in the local silent picture theatre. She received a graduate degree from university when women often didn't finish high school. As a woman she taught school, raised 5 children, and tried to make the world a better place. For many years she was a single parent. Anne's daughter, Mary Ellen, wrote this to her mother for Mothers' Day a few years before Anne's death. She read it at her mother's memorial service. I am lucky to be Mary Ellen's husband and to have known Anne. As Mothers' Day is near I hope there is something in this for all of us. Warmest regards, Russell.
My Mother
My mother is like sunlight dancing on the lake
– and like dark storm clouds coming over the hill.
She has always lived her life under the protection of angels' wings.
My mother gives everything she has to everyone she loves – or likes,
and she likes a lot of people, easily.
My mother cares little for material things.
Money is of no interest to her, except for education, music, travel,
and helping others.
The word generous does not begin to describe my mother.
My mother kneels on the ground and digs in the earth.
She takes the pit from a peach and carefully,
gently, patiently grows a peach tree.
She takes a long-stemmed rose from a bouquet given by a friend, and sticks it in the ground with a big old jar over it.
Later we find a tiny rosebush.
My mother raised us by herself, heartbroken and betrayed.
We tried her patience.
We were not what are called " easy children".
Except maybe one. Not me.
Sometimes I want to just hold her and give her that warm, comforted feeling she gave me long ago – and not so long ago.
But she is hard to hold, being long out of the habit of being held.
She is a very independent woman.
We agree and we disagree.
We certainly can argue.
My mother is old now.
At good times she takes joy in the sunset,
the trees sparkling after a sleet storm,
the funny, clever, adorable behaviour of the youngest grandchildren,
the accomplishments of the older ones.
She tidies up and sorts things that have come along with her through the years.
My mother has always played the piano.
She plays with abandon when she thinks no one can hear.
At bad times all the battles of the world – far and near – vex her.
She feels she is no longer of use.
Being of use to others and enjoying God's creations are what life is about for my mother.
And, despite her frustrations with her failing body and energies,
it is not possible for my mother to not be of use.
How does one measure the use of the way her face lights up when she sees my children,
the touch of her hand,
her continuing efforts to "raise" us and improve upon her work,
the home she keeps always ready and open for us, in spite of the loneliness of the empty rooms when we're not there,
the voice on the phone,
the values she continues to instill,
the constant, unceasing message that, as always,
she will do or give anything she can to make us happy
or relieve our pain
– sometimes in spite of ourselves.
These are beyond measure.
The term "of use" doesn't begin to cover them.
And these are my mother.
For Anne McDonough with love from Mary Ellen McDonough – Mother's Day 1997
Women's Sites
The National Women's Health Information Center. The Office of Women's Health – US Department of Health and Human Services
http://www.ivillage.com/travel/triptips/, gives tips on women's safety and health during business trips, as well as family-related articles
http://www.journeywoman.com/, is a broad on-line resource for women on the subject of travel. The site heghlights international travel, travel during pregnancy and quality of accommodations
Random Thoughts
The eyes are blind, one must look with the heart. – Saint Exupery
Complete possession is proved only by giving. – Andre Gide