Wow. I don't think it's my imagination that in the time I've been reading your posts they have been moving toward greater emotionality and vulnerability. This one is exquisite.
Your mother seemed brave to me, somehow searching for that illusive love and when denied, remaking herself. She was truly lucky to have you as a loving sun who would drop everything to support and console her. I hope that in her later years, your mother was able to love herself enough to turn inward for what she had been seeking.
Thank you, Renee-Elizabeth. She seemed brave to me, too. It was lovely to see her as a grandmother in her later years, which she relished. Thanks so much for reading, and leaving this beautiful comment.
There are so many lessons I take from reading your words Rob. The compassion and wisdom in your writing is marvellous. Finding beauty in the wreckage. Thank you.
This is beautiful, Rob, and your mother sparkles in that photo.
In moments of raw emotion, what’s left unsaid can be as powerful as any speech, so I don’t think you need worry about not having spoken about the ‘beautiful things’ in Madrid. But I’m very glad you’ve shared them here.
Did you connect with your half-sister in Australia?
Thanks so much, Wendy. Yes, I've been to visit her multiple times, and my kids have been able to spend some time in Australia with their cousins, too. It's complicated, as these things tend to be... but I'm hopeful we'll reconnect again at some point.
Beautiful. What a gift to be able to meet up with your mom and see beautiful things while she was in pain. Maybe that was the antidote. Or maybe it was time with you.
Thank you, Istiaq. I think we both got very lucky that trip worked out. I took my son to Madrid (very different trip, to see soccer), but we did spend some time in front of Guernica, and I told him about this trip with his Nana. It seemed so random at the time, but has obviously imprinted deeply. I appreciate the kind words.
It sure sounds like it has, Alida. I'm really glad to hear of your mom, especially on (U.S.) Mother's Day. It's extraordinary to think of not only persevering, but seeing good despite having a hard life. Thank you for sharing this.
Thank you for sharing this story of your beautiful Mum… isn’t it wonderful you got to experience this one on one time with her… and that you remembered it so well to be able to write about it in such detail. From the heartache to the spectacular to the ordinary moments… in memory of your Mumma on Mother’s Day. A beautiful tribute.
Gosh I love this. I’m 42 and my son is now 20, in Italy, at a military base where he’s stationed. The heartbreak of my child becoming an adult is something I wasn’t prepared for. Not that preparing for heartbreak can mitigate it at all, or make it hurt less. As a single mother, I look back and see the ways my pursuit of partnership harmed my parenting. I did a decent job, to be sure, but I would have done much better without a couple of those men. I do think I created a peaceful life for him for many years. I was 22 when my son was born and I raised him basically on my own. This story here makes me hopeful about how to move forward, and how real love endures, even through years of chaos.
That's beautiful to hear, Sadie. I think all the time about single moms like mine who did so much on their own. The love really does become more and more apparent the older I get... even thinking back on the most chaotic times. Maybe especially then.
As someone who also had a mom with a difficult past, it would be so easy to dwell on the hard experiences that were present throughout my childhood, and I’m sure were part of your life as well. It’s so much more fulfilling and meaningful to think on the special moments in time that were beautiful. We all can share with you in celebration of the beautiful but flawed women that raised us.
I loved that you've said this, Joann. I sure spent plenty of time dwelling on the hard stuff, but it is so much more fulfilling and meaningful to look for the love instead. It seems like looking at everyone, including ourselves, with a more generous lens is the greatest gift of getting older, and experiencing loss. Here's to the beautiful, flawed, complicated, amazing women who raised us, indeed!
Thank you for sharing your personal moments with your Mother. It was nice to experience it with you on Mother’s Day. You articulate life so well. I am never disappointed.
Oh, Rob, Thank you so much for sharing this poignant, sad, but heartwarming meditation about your mom. I love that you traveled with her to "see beautiful things." How blessed that she had you as her son in her life---a beloved, enduring and supportive person for her, although I'm sure it was so difficult for you, as it always is to be a caregiver. I also sympathize with how you choked up when you wanted to speak. When my much-loved brother died, I was so grief-stricken, I couldn't say a word, I couldn't speak at his funeral---and I'm very verbal (too much so, sometimes.) But in your evocative writing, you've expressed all that you couldn't convey by talking. Rob, as we say in the Jewish tradition: "May your mom's memory be a blessing."
Thank you so much, Shelley, that's beautiful. Yes, as my wife can attest, I'm rarely at a loss for words... but sometimes the inability to speak says it all. I'm so sorry to hear about your brother. How unbelievably hard that must be. Sending all my best to you, with gratitude for these kind and thoughtful words.
I do miss my brother so much! I had a sugar maple tree planted in our Chicago Botanic Gardens in his memory, wrote a tag for the tree with descriptors about him, and created a dedication for family and friends, where we read poetry, played favorite songs, and told stories about him. I go there often, and hug the tree---I'm one of those people! But I can feel his spirit. And I'm so happy that I discovered your newsletter, Rob. You have a rare spirit, and beautifully convey your thoughts and feelings in your writing. Thank you!
What a beautiful way to remember him, Shelley. I'm so glad you have this place to visit, and to feel this connection. Thank you for sharing this wonderful story, and for the kind words.
Wow. I don't think it's my imagination that in the time I've been reading your posts they have been moving toward greater emotionality and vulnerability. This one is exquisite.
Thanks so much, my friend. That means the world, coming from you.
Your mother seemed brave to me, somehow searching for that illusive love and when denied, remaking herself. She was truly lucky to have you as a loving sun who would drop everything to support and console her. I hope that in her later years, your mother was able to love herself enough to turn inward for what she had been seeking.
Thank you, Renee-Elizabeth. She seemed brave to me, too. It was lovely to see her as a grandmother in her later years, which she relished. Thanks so much for reading, and leaving this beautiful comment.
There are so many lessons I take from reading your words Rob. The compassion and wisdom in your writing is marvellous. Finding beauty in the wreckage. Thank you.
Thank you, Margaret. That's so very lovely to hear. I appreciate you!
This is beautiful, Rob, and your mother sparkles in that photo.
In moments of raw emotion, what’s left unsaid can be as powerful as any speech, so I don’t think you need worry about not having spoken about the ‘beautiful things’ in Madrid. But I’m very glad you’ve shared them here.
Did you connect with your half-sister in Australia?
Thanks so much, Wendy. Yes, I've been to visit her multiple times, and my kids have been able to spend some time in Australia with their cousins, too. It's complicated, as these things tend to be... but I'm hopeful we'll reconnect again at some point.
I'm working on a memorial for my mother who passed last year. Thank you for sharing your tender inspiration.
Sorry for your loss, Wynn. Sending you all the very best as you remember your mom.
Thank you
Beautiful. What a gift to be able to meet up with your mom and see beautiful things while she was in pain. Maybe that was the antidote. Or maybe it was time with you.
Thank you, Istiaq. I think we both got very lucky that trip worked out. I took my son to Madrid (very different trip, to see soccer), but we did spend some time in front of Guernica, and I told him about this trip with his Nana. It seemed so random at the time, but has obviously imprinted deeply. I appreciate the kind words.
My mum also had a hard life and developed a brittle but colourful exterior and was loved by many.
But she only ever saw the good in people, animals, weather, events
(sometimes to her detriment)
I’d like to think her view of life has rubbed off on me, even if it’s only a little.
It sure sounds like it has, Alida. I'm really glad to hear of your mom, especially on (U.S.) Mother's Day. It's extraordinary to think of not only persevering, but seeing good despite having a hard life. Thank you for sharing this.
Thank you for sharing this story of your beautiful Mum… isn’t it wonderful you got to experience this one on one time with her… and that you remembered it so well to be able to write about it in such detail. From the heartache to the spectacular to the ordinary moments… in memory of your Mumma on Mother’s Day. A beautiful tribute.
Thank you, Tracey. What a lovely thing to read. I so appreciate this.
Gosh I love this. I’m 42 and my son is now 20, in Italy, at a military base where he’s stationed. The heartbreak of my child becoming an adult is something I wasn’t prepared for. Not that preparing for heartbreak can mitigate it at all, or make it hurt less. As a single mother, I look back and see the ways my pursuit of partnership harmed my parenting. I did a decent job, to be sure, but I would have done much better without a couple of those men. I do think I created a peaceful life for him for many years. I was 22 when my son was born and I raised him basically on my own. This story here makes me hopeful about how to move forward, and how real love endures, even through years of chaos.
That's beautiful to hear, Sadie. I think all the time about single moms like mine who did so much on their own. The love really does become more and more apparent the older I get... even thinking back on the most chaotic times. Maybe especially then.
Thanks Rob. I love your pieces, they really hit for me.
What a life. I’m certain as the end drew near, that trip to Spain was her most cherished memory.
What a wonderful son to drop everything and hustle over there to help.
You write beautifully.
Thank you, Pam. It's certainly a cherished memory for me. Thanks so much for the kind words.
To Maureen O’Dea, indeed. What a beautiful tribute, Rob.
Thanks so much, Carla. That's a lovely thing to say.
As someone who also had a mom with a difficult past, it would be so easy to dwell on the hard experiences that were present throughout my childhood, and I’m sure were part of your life as well. It’s so much more fulfilling and meaningful to think on the special moments in time that were beautiful. We all can share with you in celebration of the beautiful but flawed women that raised us.
I loved that you've said this, Joann. I sure spent plenty of time dwelling on the hard stuff, but it is so much more fulfilling and meaningful to look for the love instead. It seems like looking at everyone, including ourselves, with a more generous lens is the greatest gift of getting older, and experiencing loss. Here's to the beautiful, flawed, complicated, amazing women who raised us, indeed!
Your writing is one of the key ways I stay tender Rob. Another deeply moving story.
Thank you, my friend. I'm grateful for you.
Thank you for sharing your personal moments with your Mother. It was nice to experience it with you on Mother’s Day. You articulate life so well. I am never disappointed.
Thank you, Ed. I appreciate you!
Wow. I love this, so much, Rob. Beatufiul, evocative, funny. I read this morning and keep thinking about it, so came back to comment! xo
Thank you, my friend. That means the world to me. Miss you all! x
Oh, Rob, Thank you so much for sharing this poignant, sad, but heartwarming meditation about your mom. I love that you traveled with her to "see beautiful things." How blessed that she had you as her son in her life---a beloved, enduring and supportive person for her, although I'm sure it was so difficult for you, as it always is to be a caregiver. I also sympathize with how you choked up when you wanted to speak. When my much-loved brother died, I was so grief-stricken, I couldn't say a word, I couldn't speak at his funeral---and I'm very verbal (too much so, sometimes.) But in your evocative writing, you've expressed all that you couldn't convey by talking. Rob, as we say in the Jewish tradition: "May your mom's memory be a blessing."
Thank you so much, Shelley, that's beautiful. Yes, as my wife can attest, I'm rarely at a loss for words... but sometimes the inability to speak says it all. I'm so sorry to hear about your brother. How unbelievably hard that must be. Sending all my best to you, with gratitude for these kind and thoughtful words.
I do miss my brother so much! I had a sugar maple tree planted in our Chicago Botanic Gardens in his memory, wrote a tag for the tree with descriptors about him, and created a dedication for family and friends, where we read poetry, played favorite songs, and told stories about him. I go there often, and hug the tree---I'm one of those people! But I can feel his spirit. And I'm so happy that I discovered your newsletter, Rob. You have a rare spirit, and beautifully convey your thoughts and feelings in your writing. Thank you!
What a beautiful way to remember him, Shelley. I'm so glad you have this place to visit, and to feel this connection. Thank you for sharing this wonderful story, and for the kind words.