Reading a New Yorker review of memoirs of mothers, I saw bits and pieces I could relate to. Oh, not as concretely as some articles, but parts reverberated, if not literally but in the images they brought to mind.
From the first passage, while not most of it, was the phrase "the struggle is formative." Most women work to either become or distance themselves from their mothers. Whether called a struggle or a process, it is formative. Certainly, so much of my mother I admired and strove to be like her, while yes, there were a few traits I ran from (and was that for the best? Maybe not.) The other reflection, "they leave their shadows and absences," resonates because as we age our mothers are not only what they did but the shadows we saw and the absences we felt. It was an interesting and thoughtful piece.
In the midst of that was the cartoon, appropriately so, I thought. It'd be nice if mothers could stand on the sidelines and say, "I taught her that." Something significant but not all that noteworthy, like the doggy paddle. Not wanting to take too much credit because, as we all know, we come into the world with our own selves.
And finally, a perfect explanation of a funny story. Once, while driving a group of young girls, one was bragging that she'd won while another had lost. I responded by saying, "You know, we all lose in the end." Well. There was silence and then, forever then, laughter and ridicule for me. I still contend that they should have inferred what I was saying, that when victorious we should be humble and kind because we won't always be the winner. Unfortunately, that was not how it was taken, and to this day, I've been reminded of my comment.
I have always felt for the failures; we win one day and lose in another. Being gracious in victory prepares us for our own failures, knowing that it's graciousness, not winning that matters. Did I get that from my mother? Who knows, but I think I'll give her credit for it.
Mothers
