In honor of Mother’s Day this year I asked the writers in my memoir class to tell us about the traits they share with their mothers. This one is written by Michael Graff. The “Nancy” in the essay is his wife, and the “Pink House” he refers to is their family’s vacation home near Lake Michigan.
by Michael Graff
Over breakfast last Tuesday, Nancy asked, “what’s your ‘Beth’ assignment for this week?”
I smiled and said, “a mother’s day assignment. I’m supposed to write about traits I share with my mother.”
I’m uncertain if Nancy groaned, grimaced, rolled her eyes, or grunted. Perhaps all those. Then she asked, “What traits do you think you shared with your mom?”
That’s Michael (left), Nancy and their son Evan, with Michael’s mother (Delores) in the foreground. Taken at the Pink House.
Let’s turn this essay into a cartoon of Nancy and me having breakfast. Above our heads, there are balloons that reveal our thoughts. Mine says: Smart, has a fondness for fine things, buys only what’s needed or necessary. Likes to purchase items based upon value. Reasonable, Quick to find the truth. Knowledgable.
Nancy’s bubble has the words: Not as smart as he thinks he is, only likes what he likes, buys annoyingly teeny tiny minuscule portions of items. Doesn’t care what he pays for anything. Hot head. Sometimes can’t see the answer in front of him. Know it all.
I have an idea which balloon more accurately reveal the traits mom and I share. I think mom would side with me.
If I’d been 15 when Beth handed me this assignment, I’d be darned insulted that she asked me to ponder whether there were any similarities between myself and my mom. Regardless of the truth, the fifteen year old Mike would have said, “Beth, isn’t it obvious? My mom and I share no common traits because we have nothing in common.”
The truth is that after my dad died, mom and I became best friends. You wouldn’t always know because sometimes we yelled at each other. One summer, mom opened up our refrigerator at Pink House and demanded to know why we had this item or that. I grabbed one from her and threw it into the trash.
Mom raised her arm to block the trash can and yelled, “Michael, stop that!”
I replied, “Then you stop it, goddammit. This is my house.”
Later that same summer, mom was in our pool and I watched my eighty three year old mother climb out using the ladder. I thought, I might have to figure out a way to install steps into our pool because mom might not be able to climb out so easily the next summer or summers after that. That was down the road, nothing to think about then.
A couple of weeks later, mom came into the kitchen at Pink House and told me, “I didn’t feel well last night. My heart was racing.”
“Mom, why didn’t you get me?”
“I figured it would either go away, or I’d be dead.”
I made her call her doctor. Mom was hospitalized for a suspected lung infection. It turned out to be advanced lung cancer which invaded her heart.
When she heard the news, Mom said, “I’ve had a wonderful life. I’m ready.”
Ten days later she was gone.
When I was fifteen, I never wanted to be like my mother, but today I hope I’m just like her.
Love this.
I love this essay and I love this assignment. My teen age self certainly did not understand or appreciate my mother in the way I do now. I credit my Mom for my best of traits.
I love this tribute to the writer’s mother. How perfect for Mother’s Day! I too struggled growing up and into adulthood, determined not to be anything like my mother. I softened as her dementia diagnosis began to take her from me, and I began to see her through new eyes, as she really was, as well as through the eyes of those who cared for her at the nursing home dementia unit (where she had to be for her own safety as she deteriorated). It was a sad time for both of us, but I am grateful for the last years and getting to know my mother without the parent/child tug of war that is so common. I learned I am more like her than I ever wanted to be, and it’s a good inheritance. I have her sensitivity, and easily broken heart, her strong-willed determination, her fortitude. She taught me well growing up and I did not see it until later in life how much she protected me, challenged me, and loved me. Happy Mother’s Day in Heaven, mom !!!
Thank you for your comments. I appreciate them. Happy Mother’s Day to all you moms out there.
Oh What a brilliant assignment. Something we all think about and you gave the opportunity to express.
Must admit, I was pretty pleased with that prompt –especially after hearing all the thoughtful essays the writers have been coming back with.
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