A Story to Tell

So I called my daughter, Julia, the other day, and Lucia was willing to “talk” to me – unusual enough, because phone conversations are not really that much fun for a two year old. Or for the other party, for that matter. Lately, Lucia’s been saying she’s too busy to talk – “Playing,” she says, or “Eating,” as if anyone would understand that she couldn’t be interrupted.

But this time, she readily takes the phone and, with prompting from her mama, tells me that they are “Buying car,” and yes, she goes for a ride in it and yes she likes it. We run out of conversational material, and I say “Ok, sweet pea, you wanna give the phone to your Mommy?”

And I hear a little grunt that sounds like, “No,” and I can hear her mama laughing and taking to someone in the background. So I say, “Ok, well, um, you want me to sing you a song?” and I think maybe I get a grunt of assent, so I do a quick verse or two of Old McDonald and then I hear her Mommy say, “Can I have the phone? Are you through?”

And Lucia says firmly, “No. Talking.”

I’m tickled pink – now I’m the important activity!! So I sing her another song, (not that I can really sing, you know) and her Mommy says, “Can I have the phone now?’ and she says ~

“No. Talking!”

So I sing “Little Bunny Foo-Foo”

and she’s excited ~ I hear her say to her Mommy, “Singing!” ~ and she actually kind of almost sings along!! How cool is that?

Then she’s done and I’m done too, but now I’m looking forward to our next phone call!

Father’s Day, like Mother’s Day, taps into a well of intense feelings.  I can imagine families where those feelings are simple love and appreciation, but for those of us who have some ambivalence about our fathers, it can be a more painful celebration.  I imagine that fathers who have difficult relationships with their children also struggle.

So it’s not surprising that I couldn’t find just one quote to use on Facebook in honor of Father’s Day.  No, I found a bunch of quotes that each capture some aspect of the relationship.

“Dads are like chocolate chip cookies; they may have chips or be totally nutty, but they are sweet and make the world a better place, especially for their children.”
― Hillary Lytle

I love that image of Dad – so much warmth.  It makes me think of the old TV show with Patty Duke – the one where she played both cousins, Patty and Cathy.  Her father was, for me, the epitome of a great father.   Martin Lane.  He was always kind and reasonable.  Sometimes stern, but still loving.  He seemed to hit this perfect medium:

“Fathers…it’s vital to exhibit a thoughtful balance between being a tough as nails disciplinarian and compassionate gentle patriarch to our families. Too much of one devastates relationships and too much of the other emasculates our ability to effectively lead. Our wives and children need the security and assurance of knowing that we can be both tough and tender. One side steel…the other side velvet.
― Jason Versey, A Walk with Prudence

That was the Dad I wanted.   But I liked the idea of this one too:

“I believe that what we become depends on what our fathers teach us at odd moments, when they aren’t trying to teach us. We are formed by little scraps of wisdom.”
― Umberto Eco, Foucault’s Pendulum

I picture some absent-minded professor of a father, intent on his daily work, with his young daughter or son following behind him to catch the pearls of wisdom that he would drop… the occasional story, a proverb here or there…

Yeah, I didn’t quite have that dad either.  My dad was closer to this one:

“Fathers never have exactly the daughters they want because they invent a notion of them that the daughters have to conform to.”
― Simone de Beauvoir, The Woman Destroyed

And of course all of those fathers reflect the archetype of Father more than the reality of most of our Dads. Larger than life – Father as leader and protecter, Father as mediator between the home and the outside world, Father who teaches their sons how to be men, and their daughters how to relate to men.  Not to mention all the shadow sides of those roles.  It’s not surprising that we confuse the archetype of Father with the human reality of Dad, whether’s it’s biological Dad, step-Dad, or an uncle or big brother that takes this role.

“That was when the world wasn’t so big and I could see everywhere. It was when my father was a hero and not a human.”
― Markus Zusak, I Am the Messenger

When I was younger, there was so much angst in my thoughts and feelings about my Dad.  As I’ve gotten older, thank goodness, I am better able to see him as a person who did the best he knew how to do.  But this quote still resonates with me – and for many years, I think it fit me.

“Someone once said that every man is trying to live up to his father’s expectations or make up for their father’s mistakes….”
― Barack Obama, The Audacity of Hope: Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream

Certainly, my Dad’s expectations formed much of who I am, whether I strived to live up to them or pushed back against and rejected them.

So when I read Facebook threads about Father’s Day, I’m not surprised by the intensity of feeling the day elicits, or the conflicting ideas that arise.  One friend is concerned about people wishing single moms a “Happy father’s day,” concerned that it shortchanges the actual male fathers out there parenting.  A few people still think biological fathers trump the man who raises you, but others are sure “being there” trumps genetics.  Some folks struggle with defining the roles and titles of a transgender parent.  Another is upset because people treat single dads like they’re special miracles while single moms are looked down on and stigmatized.

I don’t really have an opinion about any of those things – well, I do, but I don’t think my opinions matter when it comes to fathers and their children.  Mostly I think that Fathers Day can be difficult for us in all kinds of ways, and whatever we do to manage it is the right thing to do.  I understand people feeling strongly about it, but at least today, I just don’t think it matters.

If it makes people feel better to recognize their mom as being both mother and father to them, why would I object?  And if your uncle took the father role and you still want to send a card to your biological dad, why not?  If we want to encourage single dads by exaggerating their wonderfulness a bit, I’m ok with that too.  {I am, however, passionately against stigmatizing single mothers.  Just for the record.}

As far as I’m concerned, anyone who has filled the “father” role in your life is worthy of whatever love and appreciation you have for them.

I almost posted this quote today, it says so much to me, in such a lovely understated way:

I got my dad a great father’s day present. He called to say: ‘Ach. Zis present is so good I now think it vas almost vorth having children.
― Johann Hari

That made me laugh, but there is some deep truth there.  Because ultimately, isn’t that what we all want?  To believe that the gifts we bring our father makes him see us as worthwhile?  Ok, so we probably want it to be the gift of our love, or some such intangible thing, and maybe some kids grow up just knowing that already.  But for those of us who don’t, that may still be a goal.

This is a powerful scene about fatherhood from the old sitcom, The Fresh Prince of BelAir.   I’m 57 – no, 58 – years old, and the darn thing still makes me cry.  And makes me appreciate Uncle Phil sooooo much.

“We never get over our fathers, and we’re not required to. (Irish Proverb)”
― Martin Sheen, Along the Way: The Journey of a Father and Son

On the other hand, we can, and do, “get over” the pain of a father who wasn’t there – whether he was physically absent or emotionally withdrawn, abusive or neglectful – we can recover.  Part of that process is separating the person from the archetype.  Part of it is learning from the men around us who are there for us.  And part of it is developing the skill to parent ourselves.

So when I read this…

“The monsters are gone.”
“Really?” Doubtful.
“I killed the monsters. That’s what fathers do.”
― Fiona Wallace

…I don’t feel warm and fuzzy about the person promising to kill the monsters, I am doubtful about that too.  But I remind myself that I’m pretty good at managing some monsters myself.

So I was finishing this blog post today, looking for just the right words to wrap it up, when I see my friend’s latest Facebook post.  And there it is – two simple sentences that pretty much says it all:

“Dad’s Day can be awesome and it can be tough. Sending love to those that need it for a variety of reasons.

~~ Christine Bowman

Exactly.  Thanks, Christine.

Mother’s Day is wonderful for some people and super uncomfortable or downright painful for others.  I have some mixed feelings about it.  I think it’s a Hallmark holiday (even though I know it didn’t start that way.)  But I often struggled to figure out what to do for my Mother on Mother’s Day, and I was dismayed to discover that – even though I think it’s a Hallmark holiday – the ways my kids acknowledged me on Mother’s Day mattered a lot.

For years, there was also my mother-in-law, who needed to be taken into account, and my stepdaughter’s biological mother, and it was a complex and frustrating holiday.  I used to promise myself that once my girls became mothers, I would leave town for the weekend so they could enjoy the day themselves.

So it’s not surprising that I often have trouble finding a quote I really like for my daily Facebook post.  I want to find something that applies to people who have great relationships with their mothers, and those who don’t speak to their mothers. I want it to make sense to the mothers whose kids live with them forever and the mothers of those kids who don’t speak to them.

I want a quote that applies to biological mothers, foster mothers, step-mothers, stay-at-home mothers, career mothers, and the mothers who left.  It has to work for the “you’re like a second mother to me,” mothers, and of course for the men who mothered some of us.  Plus, of course, it has to fit my own socio-political ideas about motherhood.

It is not easy.

Part of the difficulty is that Mother’s Day has become a celebration of the archetype of Mother – the all-loving archetype of warmth, nurturance and creativity, growth and love. Mother Earth – sunshine, gentle rains, crops and harvest. Mother with a baby at her breast – holding, rocking, soothing, nurturing, maybe with a toddler playing contentedly at her feet, an older child doing homework nearby.

This aspect of the archetypes gives us these kinds of quotes:

“I realized when you look at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know.”
~~ Mitch Albom, For One More Day

Or this one:

“A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.”
~~ Washington Irving

Those are far too cloying sweet for me.  Here’s the archetype described through the lens of patriarchy:

“It is a fundamental truth that the responsibilities of motherhood cannot be successfully delegated. No, not to day-care centers, not to schools, not to nurseries, not to babysitters. We become enamored with men’s theories such as the idea of preschool training outside the home for young children. Not only does this put added pressure on the budget, but it places young children in an environment away from mother’s influence Too often the pressure for popularity, on children and teens, places an economic burden on the income of the father, so mother feels she must go to work to satisfy her children’s needs. That decision can be most shortsighted. It is mother’s influence during the crucial formative years that forms a child’s basic character. Home is the place where a child learns faith, feels love, and thereby learns from mother’s loving example to choose righteousness. How vital are mother’s influence and teaching in the home—and how apparent when neglected!”
― Ezra Taft Benson

That quote could be subtitled “Instilling guilt in women who think they should have a career outside of motherhood.”  Clearly, that quote is not going up on my Facebook page!

In response to that patriarchal and limiting view of mother, we get quotes like this:

“I wasn’t put on this earth to be housekeeper to my own child or to anyone else for that matter.”
― Lynn Freed

Or this one:

“And really, how insulting is it that to suggest that the best thing women can do is raise other people to do incredible things? I’m betting some of those women would like to do great things of their own.”
― Jessica Valenti, Why Have Kids?: A New Mom Explores the Truth About Parenting and Happiness

The flip side – the “shadow” side – of the archetype for “mother” is Mother Nature, with her tsunamis and hurricanes, floods and drought.  Mommie Dearest and evil step-mothers are aspects of the archetype.   Some quotes reflect that.

“I’ve spent my whole life trying to get over having had Nikki for a mother, and I have to say that from day one after she died, I liked having a dead mother much more than having an impossible one. ”
~~ Anne Lamott, Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith

Or this one:

“You don’t know what it’s like to grow up with a mother who never said a positive thing in her life, not about her children or the world, who was always suspicious, always tearing you down and splitting your dreams straight down the seams. When my first pen pal, Tomoko, stopped writing me after three letters she was the one who laughed: You think someone’s going to lose life writing to you? Of course I cried; I was eight and I had already planned that Tomoko and her family would adopt me. My mother of course saw clean into the marrow of those dreams, and laughed. I wouldn’t write to you either, she said. She was that kind of mother: who makes you doubt yourself, who would wipe you out if you let her. But I’m not going to pretend either. For a long time I let her say what she wanted about me, and what was worse, for a long time I believed her.”
~~ Junot Díaz, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao

Those reflect the shadow side of “mother” as intensely as the cloying sweet ones reflect the all-good mother.  Way too harsh for Mother’s Day. I would be more likely to use this one, which at least recognizes different aspects of “mother.”

“In a child’s eyes, a mother is a goddess. She can be glorious or terrible, benevolent or filled with wrath, but she commands love either way. I am convinced that this is the greatest power in the universe.”

― N.K. Jemisin, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms

 In real life, moving away from archetypes and polarized aspects of mothers, I find quotes like these, which reflect real people who mother us, who struggle to come to terms with what it means to be “mother.”

“Mom’s eyes held yours for a moment. ‘I don’t like or dislike the kitchen. I cooked because I had to. I had to stay in the kitchen so you could all eat and go to school. How could you only do what you like? There are things you have to do whether you like it or not.’ Mom’s expression asked, What kind of question is that? And then she murmured, ‘If you only do what you like, who’s going to do what you don’t like?”
― Shin Kyung-sook, Please Look After Mom

Or this one:

“But will you not have a house to care for? Meals to cook? Children whining for this or that? Will you have time for the work?” “I’ll make time,” I promised. “The house will not always be so clean, the cooking may be a little hasty, and the whining children will sit on my lap and I’ll sing to them while I work.”
― Gloria Whelan

In real life, we get quotes like this:

“Maybe a mother wasn’t what she seemed to be on the surface.”
― Jodi Picoult, Handle with Care

Or this one:

Maybe it’s just a daughter’s job to piss off her mother.”
― Chuck Palahniuk, Diary

Or – a personal favorite:

“Of course mothers and daughters with strong personalities might see the world from very different points of view.”
― Katherine Howe, The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane

If we’re lucky, we grow into being able to distinguish our mothers from the archetype of mother.  We learn to recognize our own mother’s strengths and failings, and recognize that she was just a person, not really a goddess at all.

Ok, maybe there is a bit of goddess in all of us, but we are mostly human.  And as we find ourselves cast in the role of “mother” we may feel as conflicted as this quote suggests:

“I want to mother the world, I thought. I have so much love.
Then—I have no business being a mother. I am a selfish woman.
Then—I can do this. Millions of women have been mothers.
Then—I feel very alone. I do not know what I’m capable of.”
― Megan Mayhew Bergman, Birds of a Lesser Paradise: Stories

…here we come.

Found this poem this morning, and it made me smile.

My granddaughter has clearly inherited my shoe “thing” – I won’t call it an obsession, that would be excessive, but I do kind of have a shoe thing.  And so does she.

She’s not exclusive or particular about her interest in shoes – she’s just as fascinated with Dee’s shoes

as she is by my (much cuter) selection.  She likes to carry his around and try to put them on – today, she discovered she can get both of her feet in one of his shoes.  It makes walking a little tricky, but that’s beside the point.

She is, however, apparently developing her own ideas on fashion.  I was getting ready for work yesterday morning, wearing these shoes:

when she came running to me, saying, “Oooh, Ooooh,” with great urgency, clutching another shoe in one hand.  By dint of pointing and her favorite monosyllabic word – “uh,” she made it clear that I was to put on the shoe she’d brought me.

Obediently, I did.

We both admired it for a minute – it was, I have to admit, probably a better selection for my outfit.  Unfortunately, I had to explain to Lucia, I haven’t been able to find the match to that shoe for a while, and I can’t wear just one shoe to work, no matter how cute it is.

She accepted the bad news, with only a reproachful glance or two at me.   I hope my shoe selection today meets with more approval.

She is clearly my granddaughter.