Wowwwwwwww. I can't explain how I feel right now. This is beautiful and raw and I resonate with it so fully while at the same time understanding that I've never allowed myself to say what you are saying here, but that I need to say at last. I've always seen my mom as weak. But in the moments you describe where you were wrong about your mom, where she was actually the exact opposite, I see reflections of my mother, and I realize I may have had it all wrong all this time.
Phew, I've got to sit with this . . . but I think this right here is what makes Substack such a glorious thing, a life raft, a golden thread of connection. All of this to say, this is a piece of writing that will stay with me for a long time, maybe always, and I hope you take that as the highest form of compliment.
I have had to take several deep breaths before replying to this because this is just so much - in the best possible way. When I first read this, I cried. Then I reread it and cried again. What a generous, beautiful thing for you to write. I really cannot express to you how much this means and how deeply I will treasure this note always. I'll probably come back to read it again and again whenever I need to remind myself of the "why" of what compels us to write. I totally agree with you about the connection to be found on Substack. It's been the greatest surprise and most wonderful bonus of being here. My therapist moved away a year ago, and I have not had therapy since. But I honestly feel better, more aligned, more healthy than I ever have, and I truly think it's because of writing/purging, finding so many beautiful likeminded creatives, and letting my vulnerability loose in the world. Life. Changing. I don't have that many subscribers (and hardly any paid) but getting a message like this, and making connections with other women like you, feels like one of the most valuable and sacred parts of my life. I wish you clarity and healing in your process of reconciling who your mom was/is. I am honored to be even the most minuscule part of it.
OK - word vomit. But you just filled me up so much! Big love!
I mean, this just made my heart explode. 🥹 I'm so glad I could accomplish all of that with one heartfelt compliment. I hope you do come back to it (I save my favorite comments in a file, for a similar purpose). And I hope you always keep writing as a way to explore your own feelings, and continue to allow your vulnerability to help the rest of us feel seen and pushed to reconsider our preconceived ideas. Thanks for cracking me open, especially when I had no idea I needed it. 🩵
Oh,Leslie…..the pain you all went through is heart wrenching. Dear Frances….I think of her everytime the neighbors (renters) shut your front door and that heavy knocker hits the door. I look out and expect to see her coming across the street. One thing I remembered and wanted to tell you: It was about the time she had fallen and one of our neighbors(was it Wally?) found her and called the ambulance. She had been talking about how much she liked grilled cheese sandwiches. When she had to go to rehab at Stonegate, I took my sandwich maker over and made her grilled cheese sandwiches in her room. She was so grateful. We were a little worried about getting caught, but no one bothered us. I loved your Mom….she was so brave and strong and had a heart of pure gold.
Thank you so much for reading. And thank you for being such a sweet friend to my mom. The grilled cheese story kills me. I didn't know about that, but that was the kindest gesture. And that knocker! We may end up renovating that house and moving in. If we do, that knocker is going!
Most of us probably would rather not know the fear, anguish, loneliness, anxiety, and all the other ilks we never had a clue about because mom seldom let us see her burdens.
What a story of a resilient woman and the now realized pain you somewhat understand. Things like this will pop into your mind as you grow older and something pops a memory of your mom into your head…it’s like an AHhhh moment. Thanks for sharing.
Hindsight and all that... I actually did get to have just about all the conversations I needed before she went. That's one silver lining about a slow cancer decline. You have time to cross off the things you want to say.
I used to look down on my mother for being too weak to leave my dad, a bully. She cried and I saw that as weakness, saw it as him winning. It all damaged me so deeply, I don't think I've ever had a healthy romantic relationship. I would imagine myself with a kid OR a mate, but never both. I get this, I so get this. We have so much to talk about. You feel like fam. To soft tough mothers everywhere. ❤️🩹
Yes! We have so much in common. I'm beyond lucky to have found my husband because obviously I came with a lot of baggage. My grandad always said I was extremely observant, and that's mostly what I've attributed my ability to "break the cycle" to. Not sure if you read my piece about my journey to motherhood, but it wasn't something I saw for myself either - until I created a life with my husband. So interesting how we carry our traumas with us, letting them trail and untangle behind us like ribbons. Still have some knots in mine but so much better than they used to be. Very much looking forward to meeting in person! I feel like I now have my son - and a friend - in NYC.
This was lovely, thank you for sharing your mom with us. What a striking photo! The roses and that fence look exactly like the ones in our Metroplex 1980s-‘90s backyard.
I haven’t lived in Texas for a long, long time, and I’m super nostalgic about live oaks. Wishing yours many more years.
Beautiful. I wish I had known her better.
Ahhh, thanks Whit.
Wowwwwwwww. I can't explain how I feel right now. This is beautiful and raw and I resonate with it so fully while at the same time understanding that I've never allowed myself to say what you are saying here, but that I need to say at last. I've always seen my mom as weak. But in the moments you describe where you were wrong about your mom, where she was actually the exact opposite, I see reflections of my mother, and I realize I may have had it all wrong all this time.
Phew, I've got to sit with this . . . but I think this right here is what makes Substack such a glorious thing, a life raft, a golden thread of connection. All of this to say, this is a piece of writing that will stay with me for a long time, maybe always, and I hope you take that as the highest form of compliment.
Jennie!
I have had to take several deep breaths before replying to this because this is just so much - in the best possible way. When I first read this, I cried. Then I reread it and cried again. What a generous, beautiful thing for you to write. I really cannot express to you how much this means and how deeply I will treasure this note always. I'll probably come back to read it again and again whenever I need to remind myself of the "why" of what compels us to write. I totally agree with you about the connection to be found on Substack. It's been the greatest surprise and most wonderful bonus of being here. My therapist moved away a year ago, and I have not had therapy since. But I honestly feel better, more aligned, more healthy than I ever have, and I truly think it's because of writing/purging, finding so many beautiful likeminded creatives, and letting my vulnerability loose in the world. Life. Changing. I don't have that many subscribers (and hardly any paid) but getting a message like this, and making connections with other women like you, feels like one of the most valuable and sacred parts of my life. I wish you clarity and healing in your process of reconciling who your mom was/is. I am honored to be even the most minuscule part of it.
OK - word vomit. But you just filled me up so much! Big love!
I mean, this just made my heart explode. 🥹 I'm so glad I could accomplish all of that with one heartfelt compliment. I hope you do come back to it (I save my favorite comments in a file, for a similar purpose). And I hope you always keep writing as a way to explore your own feelings, and continue to allow your vulnerability to help the rest of us feel seen and pushed to reconsider our preconceived ideas. Thanks for cracking me open, especially when I had no idea I needed it. 🩵
Oh,Leslie…..the pain you all went through is heart wrenching. Dear Frances….I think of her everytime the neighbors (renters) shut your front door and that heavy knocker hits the door. I look out and expect to see her coming across the street. One thing I remembered and wanted to tell you: It was about the time she had fallen and one of our neighbors(was it Wally?) found her and called the ambulance. She had been talking about how much she liked grilled cheese sandwiches. When she had to go to rehab at Stonegate, I took my sandwich maker over and made her grilled cheese sandwiches in her room. She was so grateful. We were a little worried about getting caught, but no one bothered us. I loved your Mom….she was so brave and strong and had a heart of pure gold.
Thank you so much for reading. And thank you for being such a sweet friend to my mom. The grilled cheese story kills me. I didn't know about that, but that was the kindest gesture. And that knocker! We may end up renovating that house and moving in. If we do, that knocker is going!
Most of us probably would rather not know the fear, anguish, loneliness, anxiety, and all the other ilks we never had a clue about because mom seldom let us see her burdens.
What a story of a resilient woman and the now realized pain you somewhat understand. Things like this will pop into your mind as you grow older and something pops a memory of your mom into your head…it’s like an AHhhh moment. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you for this. Yes, too bad wisdom is mostly reserved for our old age. Better late than never, I suppose!
And how is it we only think of the IMPORTANT questions we need to ask…after they are Gone?!!!
Hindsight and all that... I actually did get to have just about all the conversations I needed before she went. That's one silver lining about a slow cancer decline. You have time to cross off the things you want to say.
I used to look down on my mother for being too weak to leave my dad, a bully. She cried and I saw that as weakness, saw it as him winning. It all damaged me so deeply, I don't think I've ever had a healthy romantic relationship. I would imagine myself with a kid OR a mate, but never both. I get this, I so get this. We have so much to talk about. You feel like fam. To soft tough mothers everywhere. ❤️🩹
Yes! We have so much in common. I'm beyond lucky to have found my husband because obviously I came with a lot of baggage. My grandad always said I was extremely observant, and that's mostly what I've attributed my ability to "break the cycle" to. Not sure if you read my piece about my journey to motherhood, but it wasn't something I saw for myself either - until I created a life with my husband. So interesting how we carry our traumas with us, letting them trail and untangle behind us like ribbons. Still have some knots in mine but so much better than they used to be. Very much looking forward to meeting in person! I feel like I now have my son - and a friend - in NYC.
This was lovely, thank you for sharing your mom with us. What a striking photo! The roses and that fence look exactly like the ones in our Metroplex 1980s-‘90s backyard.
I haven’t lived in Texas for a long, long time, and I’m super nostalgic about live oaks. Wishing yours many more years.
Thank you so much! And this was in the Metroplex - Fort Worth. Good eye!