Last week while I was managing controlled chaos to ensure that our customers received their Mother’s day gifts, I got a group text message from my mother. The message read, “so my English professor told me I should write a book about my life in Grenada.”
My initial reaction was a laugh. Not because I thought it was a silly idea, but coincidentally I had discussed the idea of writing my mother’s memoir less than a week before I got that text.
It was at lunch during last weekend’s BloggerWeek Unconference that I was expressing to Linda how powerful storytelling can be and how amazing I thought my mother’s story was.
I immediately responded to the group to let them know that my mother’s English professor wasn’t the only one that saw the brilliance in her story or the beauty in her writing.
My mother, on the other hand, needed a bit more convincing. ‘ What do I have to say?’ she inquired. ‘You have a beautiful story, let’s write it together. I retorted.
You see, what my mother doesn’t know is that I’m often in awe of her. How did she do it, I would ask myself.
How did she love her father so much, in spite of his bout with alcoholism? How did she support an extended family on a teacher’s salary? How did she endure leaving her children in Grenada for five years, in search of a better life in the States? How did she manage to raise four decent children all by herself?
My mother is a tremendous human being. The world may choose to ignore women like her, to erase their stories, to shame them into irrelevance. But, her story is my strength.
So mommy, you don’t have to write your story for you. Write it for my siblings and I. Write for our future sons and daughters. Write it for their children. Light a path for each of us with your words.
My gift to you today is freedom, the freedom to write your story without shame or fear of judgment.
Happy Mother’s Day!