Mother on Mother’s Day
- At April 18, 2022
- By Write in Community
- In Blog
14
Mother on Mother’s Day. How can I possibly write about her? Create something with meaning? Hold her in my heart? Mother-daughter relationships are dynamic, created and recreated over time like an artful layered painting. Our canvas, my mother’s and mine, was brushed with light and shade. Yet, I found there was richness in both.
What Do You Know: This is what I know.
I was aligned in the same orbit with her. We were intertwined with an energy force that allowed me to develop independence and Mother to see with new perspective—giving each the power and space to grow and transform. My relationship like most mother-daughter bonds was complex and layered, creased with the places and depths of our living, and filled with fragile things and other things that mattered. There was synchronicity and love between us.
Mother and I were grateful for the wide field of grass, the unexpected beauty of morning’s early light. Its gentle cupping of something invisible, momentarily lifting us, as she said, to a place where all resides. In the spring, we welcomed robins, the starlings, all matter of beasts. Squirrels busy finding buried nuts, horses running free, absent their winter coats, chasing each other across the fields, tails flying. And, in contrast, we watched the ambling movement of brown cows with long eyelashes blinking slowly in the sun.
What Are the Living Images
Imprinted on my mind are images of her—of us–that are visceral, vivid, flowing and true. In mother’s heart pulsed a river. When writers write, when I write about Mother on Mother’s Day, we become active participants in the experience—living it and it’s all poured into our poetry, short stories. Memoir. Snapshots of my mother are part of a reel that keeps spinning: Images of her pumping water from our cistern, her arms moving like pistons, dragging the heavy bucket into our farmhouse. Her back turned, my sister and I drop faces into the cool water and shake our heads like wild animals, flinging wet drops at each other.
Mother chasing mice in our kitchen with an old broom and yelling words with several syllables. And we’d be in the next room, giggling, mouthing the unsacred words, holding our bellies.
And on Saturdays, her housedress stained and dark under the arms, Mother hung load after load of laundry on the clothesline looking like flying ghosts or people with no bodies. My brother and I hide behind the sheets and play tag, sometimes pulling the sheets down in our buzzing. Wrapped up like zombies, rolled tacos.
And when sadness overcomes
I turn to the mirror and, for a moment, I think my mother will speak. And then I remember, nothing ever created entirely leaves us. –Becky Breed
Writing/Creativity Exercise:
- Read what Julia Kasdorf in What I learned from My Mother and May Sarton’s August Third wrote about their mothers.
- Traveling back over time and space, think about shared experiences with your mother or mother figure, perhaps grandmother, devoted aunt, listing two or three experiences that stand out. Then, under each, trace the image highway between the heart and head and identify the place where each happened such as Aunt Mary’s kitchen, backyard, dining room, in the car, baseball game, grocery store.
- Explore your mother-daughter or son experiences. How significant are they? What do they say about your relationship?
- Select one experience to write about. Include in your writing concrete items that were part of the imagery. For example, socks, bucket, clothesline, dress, white blouse, pigeons, basketball, bricks, etc.
- Now write a poem or short story beginning with the first line “I learned from my mother…” Include place and associated concrete items in your story. Enjoy.
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Karen Shoemaker
This is a great post, and just in time for some soul-filled writing for Mother’s Day. Thank you Becky and Lucy!
Write in Community
Thanks, Karen. I’m glad the words on writing about our mothers inspired you.
Jody Hawk Pitsch
You’ve made me not only want to get out pen and paper, but also to say, Mom, out loud. 🙂
Write in Community
Your kind comments made me smile, Jody. And say Mom out loud!
Gina Barlean
Oh, Becky. I love your writing. This makes me want to go write my own story about my mom. Interesting how it’s easy to write about our mothers but harder to write about our relationships with our daughters. At least for me it is. Even though my relationship with my mother was a beautiful thing, my relationship with my daughters almost sacred. I can’t even imagine putting it into words. Yet I suspect I’ll be trying very soon.
Write in Community
Yes, the relationships with our daughters are sacred. I’d love to see what you write. Thanks for inspiring me.
Jan Bretz
Your words made me think about and write about my mom. So beautifully complex your writing and this subject! Thank you for taking me there, Becky!
Write in Community
I appreciate your words, Jan. Sometimes when I begin writing I don’t know where I’m going. Then, whoosh, something alive takes over!
Maggie Sievers
So lovely, Becky. Thanks for these heartfelt thoughts at this time of year. I miss my mother every day. She was my rock. ❤️
Write in Community
Thank you. Your mother was so fortunate to have you as a daughter. You are a rock to others, Maggie.
Delores Feeken Schmidt
Your beautiful piece time-tunneled me to one of my earliest proud Mommy moments. A kindergarten mother/daughter tea. Mom got me a blue suit, color matched to her own. It had “diamond” buttons that sparkled. My patent leather Sunday shoes tapped on the floor, the same as her high heels. The final magic was a stop at a flower shop where we got matching red rose corsages. Was there ever a more grown up five year old? I was a proud miniature clone of my beautiful mother.
Thank you for the prompt to recall a precious memory.
Write in Community
What a special memory, Delores! All of it was grand to read. Really like the matching red rose corsages. Thank you!
Melodee Landis
Thanks for the inspiration to think deeply about my mother. Yes, complex💕
Write in Community
Thank you, Melodee. Yes, thinking about our mothers is a precious and complicated journey.