23 August 2021
Dear Mom,
Thank you for teaching me how important it is to say, “I love you,” and “I miss you” to the people who mean the most to me, because we CAN’T know when it’s also going to have to serve as “Good-bye.”
Thank you for laughing at your foibles and frailties and helping me to learn to laugh at mine. Life is already hard enough without the balm of laughter. Thank you for making my life easier with your shining examples of kindness and creativity and generosity and wit.
Thank you for always telling me the truth. Even more so, thank you for making a point of sometimes NOT telling me, but instead pointing out that some things are none of my business.
You raised four excellent cooks and one beautiful daughter (who herself is not a complete loss in the kitchen). You would not abide whining helplessness and you made sure we knew that our lives were going to be in our own hands, but that meanwhile, help was just an ask away.
Thank you for lavishing us all with hugs and kisses and tears; and thank you for denying us undeserved “rewards.” Thank you for teaching us to respect our own accomplishments and for letting us find the satisfaction of making our own ways. We were hard on each other now and then, but it toughened us all. “I had no time to raise children,” you once told me, “My job was to transform infants into adults.” With the fallible clay at hand, you shaped us as best you could, and I believe that the best of us is a reflection of your hand on our lives and your heart in our hearts.
You kept us fed and housed and comforted. And you kept us clothed. Boy howdy you kept is in stitches! Your sartorial skill was an annual delight for me, at least, as we began new school years in original threads that were often the envy of classmates. When I imagine you now, I see you surrounded by colorful scraps of fabric, and a half-finished piece flowing from your chattering treadle Singer®, taking magnificent form, almost as if by wicked stitch-craft it sprang fully formed from your own vibrant vision.
You also made sure we could all read so that we could feed our minds for ourselves. I don’t know how much your love of literature and poetry and the theatre sparked my own passions, but you certainly made no secret of your delight in my pursuits. As a self-absorbed actor many of my favorite moments backstage or on stage would be your distinctive laugh confirming your presence in the house. If I were on stage, I would not break character and betray my joy, of course, but when backstage I would beam and boast.
Because of your great lessons, I know I need never say good-bye at all. You’ll always be in my heart. And you’ll also always be standing within arms’ reach, ready to slap my silly head around in circles if I were to even consider betraying the principles you’ve blessed me with.
So, thank you, Mom. Thank you, I love you, and I miss you.
Yours always, Lawrence Gene
review 210827, correspondent BA responds: “The minister read [this] beautiful letter… if not so well as [the author] or I could have read it. [The] letter… said much of what [our baby sister] and I felt too.” I am pleased to have it confirmed that I was able to speak on behalf of my surviving siblings, and I thank BA for his kind words. And I also can’t help but agree with his overall review. BA and I both have strong speaking voices and a good cadence. The attending shaman, not as much, I think, though he did manage to get out MOST of the text, only fumbling a few phrases. Since I was attending remotely I was obliged to suffer his heroic attempt.