Mother matters, because mothers matter

I just returned from a visit with my Mom in Lubbock.  One thing women in my age group seem to have in common is that we often have “issues” with her from whose loins we have sprung.  This recent visit was harmonious, mainly because a lot of prayer went before it, I’ve learned the value of responding rather than reacting,  and my husband consciously and valiantly ran interference while we were at ground zero.

It appears though, just from my personal observation, that women younger than the boomer generation have better relationships with their mothers, to the point that teenagers and women in their twenties seem to positively be best friends with their Moms, never far from cell phone contact or texting check-ins. Wahoo! I count this cultural progress.

But cultures vary across the globe, and finding the universal symbol for “the perfect mother” is an idea that doesn’t always translate easily.  I heard of a man teaching English to Japanese students, trying to demonstrate the word “mother” by cradling a baby in his arms. The students didn’t get it. Then a bi-lingual colleague suggested another gesture — a fierce look and shaking index finger. Ah! So! Mother!

That certainly wouldn’t be the case in Mexico. Have a look at this article by Marilyn Davis, originally printed in 1999 in El Ojo del  Lago.  The article was recently re-printed in the sister publication here on the west coast, El Ojo del Mar. Again, from personal observation, I see Mexican mothers emulating that Guadalupe presence. It’s one of those things that makes Virgin Territory special.

PS — Bob Brock — thanks for the great image!

One response to “Mother matters, because mothers matter

  1. Joyce Wethe Robertson

    Dear Susan,
    Remember me? I was a friend of Chloe’s but I moved back to my old home town in Minnesota and we kinda lost track of one another. I was so sorry to hear of her passing. We both worked (at different times) at The Willows.
    Robin, my daughter, lent me her copy of your book this week and I read it in two days. Your love and honesty came shining through. I found your writing splendid and your story riveting. The one criticism I got from my book, Claudia’s Home, Waystations Along Her Spiritual Path, was that it was not “riveting.” Still, it too was honest and not all sweetness and light.
    As for changing the world, I’m afraid I sit on a bench high above overlooking the waves and rejoicing in the scene. You are down there (with Larry?) surfing and waging a righteous war. Bravo for you!
    Much love,
    Joyce Wethe Robertson
    P.S. Robin sends her love and though she hasn’t read your book yet, she’s on a similar path politically and spiritually.

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