Mama On: Love

"I'll kill a rock over my baby."

**Sigh**  I think that these are almost the sweetest words I ever heard from my mother.  In all of her wisdom, she found a way, to define love and motherhood in just a few completely understandable and indelible words. And isn't that what we trust and expect the Mamaknologists of our lives to do? 

My mother, the World's Premier Mamaknologist, not only had a way with words, she had a way with love.  Whenever she promised to kill rocks over me, I believed her.  I kid you not, I even believed her into and far beyond my, "you gotta prove it to me," teens.  And whenever challenged, she cloaked herself in love and showed up and showed out in that boldly amazing way that only women of color can do.

Never above or beyond taking a stand in her Mamaknowledge, my mother was there to climb the cherry tree I got stuck in when I was five.  She was there, almost before it happened, on the day I ran into a giant tree and broke my wrist, blacked my eye, busted my lip, and sustained a concussion.  She was right there the first time some big-headed boy broke my fragile little heart, and she was there when I declared my independence and left my childhood home to explore the world.

Born to love, I watched my mother lead our entire family into the foster care system.  I watched her take on three unwanted infants and love them into secure childhood.  One of the best examples of this love was a little boy who came into our home at two-months of age.  Born to a heroin and alcohol addicted mother and abandoned at the hospital, he was skinny and cried constantly.  His health was so tenuous that the hospital no longer wished to care for him, but my mother never gave it a second thought.  "I'll take him," she said.  The social worker worried that the child would have severe mental issues.  "He just needs love, and he's going to get it," my mother promised.  Then she did everything she could to be sure he did.

I guess this is a good time to tell you that my mother was 5'8" tall.  And I should remind you that she was determined that this child do more than survive.  She was determined that he would thrive.  So, when he refused to eat, she spent a day in the kitchen singing, cajoling, and urging.  He ate.  When he cried at night, fearing the dark and his crib, my mother climbed into the crib without a second thought and spent long sleepless nights helping a baby to find comfort and security.  He slept.  And never doubt that she spent months and years reciting nursery rhymes, singing songs, reading, and helping with lessons.  Mental issues were never a question -- her Mamaknowledge didn't allow it. 

Of course, you have to pick your battles in this life.  My mother's greatest battle was with her health, and it meant that she and my dad were unable to adopt the child because of their ages and her health, but the love contribution had been made.  That deposit of unstinting love from someone willing to kill a rock was a goo thing.  The funny part was that family friends wondered if I was jealous of the love my mother showered on her foster children.  I have always had only one answer:  No, why would I be?  My mother would kill a rock over me. 

One of those foster children is my daughter today, and I can celebrate the love bequethed me, and I have to tell her that diamonds are forever and so is my love for her.  I think I would kill rocks over her, because my mother taught me that love makes you able, but it goes even deeper.   Because my mother was willing to wield her Mamaknowledge, many of my friends are able to claim Grace by Exposure.  A lot of them are excellent women and superlative mothers, and I am flattered and proud when they salute my mother as a role model.  That's a good thing.

The Mamaknowledge lives on, and all because my mother was willing to take on the world and kill rocks over her baby. 

Happy Mother's Day.

Mama On: Thinking

"Did you hear what you just said?"

My mother, the World's Premier Mamaknologist, was really big on the power of words -- maybe that's where I got it from.  She believed that if you used words indiscriminately, it was kind of like screwing up a magical spell.  She believed that words had the power to hurt or to heal and she never understood why people would use them carelessly.  She believed that if you put the wrong words out into the world, the return would never be good or useful.  She believed that a lack of caution in the use of words could only bring confusion, waste, pain, and a sorry wash of ignorance.

I kinda think she was right.

Once, when I was around sixteen, I wanted to go to a party and she turned me down.  Flat.  I weedled, cajoled, pouted, and then turned to the angry tool of every teenaged girl, "Everybody else is going."  Of course she told me that she wasn't everybody else's mother: she was mine.  You know that didn't work, right?  I really wanted to go to that party, so I lashed out with, "It's not fair!"

And totally weary of my arguments, she finally turned from me and blurted, "Do what you want.  I don't care."  It took all of a second and a half for her to hear herself.  She turned back to me (and I thought I was going to die).  She looked me dead in the eyes and softly said, "Yes, I do."

I had no need for further clarification.  I knew exactly what she meant and I was glad to know that she did mean it.  In that very teachable Mamaknological Moment, I learned that my mother truly listened to me and wanted to know that I was listening to her.  I learned that my mother placed value in what I did, who I did it with, and where I did it.  I learned that my mother cherished my opinion of her -- enough to not only listen to what I said to her, but to also listen to what she said to me and how she said it.

As it happens, I did go to the party and I had a good time, too.  But the Mamaknology of the moment, that little listening turn from my mother taught me to be careful in the words that I use with others.  She taught me that making a statement of value is far different from just talking to fill space.  She taught me that while nature may in fact abhor a void, a loving relationship is worth a moment of deliberate thought.

We've all heard the old saying, 'think before you speak.'  Makes sense, doesn't it?  Hearing what you've said to another person and realizing the impact of your words takes a moment of deliberation -- not a whole lot of time in the Grand Scheme of Things.  I kinda think that we owe it to each other to literally weigh the impact of the words we use, and to realize that they can trigger the responses we get.   

The Mamaknology here is that a good life and full loving relationships are worth listening to the words that are coming out of your mouth.

        

Mama On: Friendship

"Be the friend you want to have."

I think I've already said that I am an only child.  So was my mother, and that leads me to wonder if being an only child is an intrinsic factor contributing to my onset of Mamaknology...

Anyway...

I am so glad that I was taught to select my friends carefully.  I am happy to say that I have friends that I have known and loved for most of my life and am still in touch with.  I am even more happy that I have friends who treat me the way that they want to be treated.  My friends, both male and female, over the years have become my siblings.  They have become my family, and with the loss of my parents, I treasure them greatly.

The Mamaknologist in me knows that my mother was right, we need friends who will stand with us for more than the next big sale at Macy's.  We need friends who will do more than hang out with us at the club -- in fact, we need friends who will tell us to stay the heck OUT of the clubs sometimes.  We need friends who are smarter than we are about ourselves sometimes -- whether we want to admit it or not.  We need friends who are too smart to not love us when we forget that we are worthy of love.  We simply need the kind of friends who want to be our friends.

And if we are lucky enough to have those kinds of friends, don't they deserve more than our raggedy and thoughtless baggage? 

My vote is that they do.  So... how about a random act of love for those friends.  This may be the day to send flowers, bake some cookies, make a phone call, or even fall on your knees and offer a sincere and heartfelt prayer for that exceptional friend of yours.  How about making this the day that you are the friend you'd like to have?

I'm just saying...

     

Mama On: Disaster And Faith

"Sometimes you just have to pray."

The news has played the disaster over and over, and it is beyond anything any of us can imagine.  People are wondering how and why God would let anything happen like the earthquake and tsunami that swept Japan.  There have even been the terrifying recordings of the earth rumbling before the horrific events, and it is awesomely frightening -- a reminder of how small and insignificant we are in God's Grand Scheme. 

The amazing thing, after the earth stopped moving and the water receeded, has been the grace and efficiency the Japanese people have shown in their recovery efforts.  There has been a request for international support and the nuclear implications are more than scary, but the survivors are carrying on.  The weather is cold and thousands have been found dead, but there is something else.  Something that is incredibly atypical of events like this. 

We are not hearing about looting, fighting for food and water, price gouging, or other social abuses.

We are hearing requests for prayer for the people and the nation.  We are hearing about the daily prayer and the groups who come together to pray.  We are hearing more and more about the school children who gather to offer prayer for the souls of those lost to the disaster.  We are even hearing that members of the rescue groups are wearing traditional prayers in and on their uniforms as they face the rescue attempts.

Somehow, I don't think that this is an acident or coincidental.  I think that this might be called faith, and the true Mamaknologist understands and appreciates the biblical definition of faith:  Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. (Hebrews 11:1) 

The true Mamaknologist understands that faith is not faith until it is all you have.  Moreover, the true Mamaknologist understands that the only way to go forward after disaster is with the assurance and confidence that God hears and answers our prayers.  This is one of those times when we all just need to pray.  My prayers are with the people of Japan for recovery, for health, and for the determination to continue to hold fast to their prayers and their faith.

Amen.

 

Mama On: Daddy

Leon McFarland
1923-2011

"You only get one -- and one should be enough."

I was fifteen when my mother said this, and I have to believe that in and with all of her Mamaknowledge she knew that this day would come.  My daddy passed last night.

As sad as that is, it is more cause for celebration than for sadness.  At age 87, he'd covered a lot of ground -- most of it good.  A soldier, business owner, artist, husband, and father, he was mine.  And while he might not have been the best father in the world:  God knows that he would never have passed for Ward Cleever ("Leave It To Beaver"), or Cliff Huxtable ("The Bill Cosby Show").  My father was one heck of a Great Daddy. 

I wish that everbody could have a Great Daddy. 

I think on it now, and I know without a doubt that I am a reflection of what he was to and for me.  Because of my daddy, I understand teamwork.  He took me to ball games and explained the rules to me.  Because of my daddy, I understand physical strength.  He taught me to ride bikes and hit golf balls straight -- especially when I didn't want to.  Because of my daddy, I understand patience.  He helped me plant and nurture those little plants in my first gardens.  Because of my daddy, I understand the eloquence of color and balance.  He wa a gifted painter and sketch artist who never laughed at my efforts. 

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't always sunshine and lollipops.  We had our trials, some of them bordering on epic, but we always found our way back to each other.  Maybe because my daddy incidently and just as a function of being who he was taught me courage of conviction.  Or maybe it was because he taught me that fear was only a reaction to a moment, not a life plan.  There is a ton of other stuff I could remember, but I think that I will stop here because I want this to be a little celebration of Daddy/Daughter love.  And I just want to remember that my mother was right: you do only get one.  But when it's done right, one is all you need.

Love you, my One and Only Daddy.
 

Mama On: Falling In Like

"Every pot needs a lid."

Okay.  This, again, is not totally original but my mother had a specific Mamaknological point to make when she said it to me.  My mother loved the concept of love.  She was completely dediated to the ideas of care, passion and fidelity.  More than that, she really liked my father.  She thought he was funny, smart, creative, and pretty darned good-looking.  The fact that he was crazy about her was icing on the cake.  She loved that my father was as enamored of her a she was of him, and she wanted that for me.

Heck, I want that for me.  Don't you want it for you?

Anyway, I remember once asking her HOW to fall in love.  I was about 13 and saw other girls with boyfriends and they all seemed to be in love, but the boys they chose seemed less than desireable to me.  Not that the boys were failing to make advances ... they did, but they were just the same little boys I'd always known.  Not one of them felt like anyone destined to be the Love of My Life.  Where was THE ONE for me?  When would he show up?  Would he ever show up?  Did he even exist?

Yes, my personal Mamaknologist assured me.

Yes, what?

"Yes, the right boy is out there for you and some day he will be the right man for you.  You'll know him because what you have with him will be different from the fun times you've had with every other friend in your life.  He will show you that it is good and right to trust him, that you are safe with him, and that being with him will make your life better in every way.  It may take a while, but you will find each other because every pot has a lid, but you're going to like him a lot.  And you've got to like your lid before you can find love with him."

It really is funny how the older we get, the wiser our parents become.  Over time, we all slide into like with a lot of people for a lot of different reasons, but it is rare that like ripens into anything sweeter.  When it does, wow, pots can find lids. 

I think my pot may have finally found the right lid -- not what I thought it would be, but definitely a good fit.  Only time will tell.  The lesson in Mamaknology that I am taking from this is that any relationship is worth the investment of time and that if you can't / won't / don't LIKE the person, you will never find a way to love them.  I've learned that even if it feels like the right person is never going to show up, you have to like the people around you.  Falling in like is the first step to falling and staying in love.

Mama On: Happy

"Some days you just have to smile; and some days, you should."

Ever have one of those days when you just wake up with inexplicable joy in your heart and a silly smile on your face?  Pretty much everybody has had one, but we don't remember or cherish them as often as we ought to.  My mother, the original Mamaknologist, thought that we ought to count those days and moments as special opportunities and then spend them liberally on sad, dark days.

I can remember walking into a hospital room to find her sitting in a hospital bed smiling dreamily.  It was on a day when nothing had gone right -- including her routine doctor's visit.  Her blood pressure was climbing rapidly toward stroke level and the doctor had moved to have her immediately hospitalized -- yet there she sat, smiling like a woman gifted with the keys to the Kingdom.

Before I could even ask, she turned the smile on me and said, "Some days you just have to smile." 

For just that one sliver of time, it came clear for me, and I did smile.  In fact, I totally got it, and it made me happy.  The Mamaknowledge of the moment was simple:  even if this was our last moment together, at least we had it.  If this was our last moment together, we could smile about it and share it, and that was a good thing.  This moment was good and we could smile because it made us happy.

All these years later, I can still feel the soft brush of her fingers on my skin and the warmth of her hand in mine and it makes me happy.  I am so glad to have had that oddly happy moment with my mother and it makes me smile.  The Mamaknology of our moment was that you should take your happy where you find it, and you should cherish it just for the glow it gives you. 

Happy is a Good Thing.