My mother died almost nine years ago. She died on Thursday, August 12, 1999 in Milwaukee, Wisconsin at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. She was born on February, 24, 1937 in Sao Paulo, Brazil. She was a very practical, no-nonsense kind of person who could often be heard saying in an affectionate tone to her three very emotional, mystical, and intensely spiritual daughters, “All right girls, whatever you say, just make sure you do your homework.”
I sometimes laugh now when I think of my kind, introverted, worker-bee of a mother having to deal with three young, somewhat flaky, impractical girls. She was the best thing that ever happened to us. Her grounded nature and practical outlook allowed us to develop into just who we were, if that makes any sense. I never felt any pressure from her to anything but me, an inquisitive, somewhat spacey, artistic, kind of sloppy, and reflective young women.
She had a way about her that even when she had to correct or redirect me, I always knew that it was out of love. I never felt criticized or even less than esteemed, although, especially during the dramatic teen years, I thought she did not always understand me. I think my emotions were often a mystery to her. Regardless, she had a way of affirming the very core of a person’s being, and even though someone was very different from her, that was okay, even if they irritated her.
What I learned from this was to like myself, even the not-so-nice parts. I can still be incredibly spacey. What becomes of a kind of sloppy teenager is a middle-aged woman with poor cleaning aptitude who still hates to wash dishes by hand because something icky could be down there.
And, I can laugh at myself and joke about my physical flaws. For example, when I see a picture of myself I think, “Good Lord! By the time I am 80, my nose is going to be down to my chest. It just keeps growing and growing.” Growing up, I often complained and cried to my mother about my ugliness due to the big nose I inherited from both sides of the family. Her response was, “Oh Ev, it will be okay. I think you are beautiful. When you grow up, and if then you still feel it is too big, you can get it fixed.” Practical. Right?
I do not think I liked her answer. But it made me realize that it was okay to feel bad about something and that if I wanted to I could take control of the situation and change whatever it was that was making me feel bad. I never had my nose changed. I decided I wanted to learn to like it. However, if it just does happen to keep on growing and growing down to my chest, I know that I still have the option.
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