Perhaps, it is because the first time I heard these words, published the year my mother died, they came as if she was giving me a good talking to about life . . . and the loss of her and other losses too.
Oh, how I have missed your words, Renee! And the words of others you choose to share.
It was curious to me that I found my way back to Substack on Mother’s Day (of all days) but I’m glad that your newsletter was the first one I happened upon.
I wish you could see the smile on my face seeing you here. I have thought of you these months. Timing has a way of being perfect, re: that you found your way back on Mother’s Day. . . . I have not forgotten your stories.
Thank you for reading and commenting on what you happened upon.
Oh, what a beautiful, powerful poem. I LOVE Naomi Shihab (it was intriguing to read and be drawn into this poem from beginning to end, not knowing it was her who wrote it!)
And thank you for sharing some history of 'Mother's Day' which is celebrated on different days in different countries, as I have noticed when moving across borders and receiving Mother's Day messages from my kids (and my own mother!) on different days...
I always felt awkward around this day of 'celebrating all the things mothers do for us' (or whatever the narrative). My grandmother died of a broken heart when her beloved son was killed in WWII, at the age of 20. My mother never recovered from the loss of her youngest son who died in a diving accident.
"This day is borne of brokenheartedness." ~ Finally, Mother's Day is making sense to me! I can relate to this ♥️ 🙏
You touch at the heart of why I circled around this week’s letter when you write: “I always felt awkward around this day ‘celebrating all the things mothers do for us’ (or whatever the narrative . . . [including failing at ‘the perfect mother’ narrative]). One of the drafts I tossed took a different tack and pulled us back to a time when the archetypal maternal was wholly celebrated, a time before the Domination Paradigm . . . and the coinciding War Paradigm that would concretize (i.e., Gebser “make sense-full”) the need for a mothers’ day of mourning.
Thank you for this poem, Renee. It’s beautiful. Mother’s Day is a complicated one for me as it is for so many people. I appreciate the little bit of history as well.
Thank you for sharing (so honestly as you do). Perhaps by shining some light on the complexities of the day, we can come to it anew: more honestly and with "the tender gravity of kindness". . . .
Dearest Renée, how deeply you touch emotional waves with your chosen poem…
I wrote of my mother, long gone but no less loved or forgotten, in my last letter - you speak of sadness being necessary in order to recognize kindnesses - I believe this wholly.. but with the profound weight of my own sadness for not knowing in time…
I send you love and my thanks for these words… and a wish for kind days for us all xx
Thank you for sharing that this poem from Naomi Shihab Nye touched you so. I have saved your letter to read and now look forward even more. Grief has a life of its own. Doesn't it? I am often struck with the nature of grief as a living essence.
May a loving hand help hold and carry your sadness--all our sadness--Susie.
Tremendous thanks for your kind words, and with love.
Thank you for commenting. Kindness *is* natural. Isn't it? And yet, we forget. My sense is that the poet here, Naomi Shihab Nye, attempts to show us that the gravity of life has gifts, strange as may seem.
“The tender gravity of kindness…”— I heard this phrase once and it struck me to the bone. Thank you, Renee, for showing me the poem that it comes from. And the history of Mother’s Day – – there is so much more gravity here than our Hallmark culture wants to give it.
Oh, how I have missed your words, Renee! And the words of others you choose to share.
It was curious to me that I found my way back to Substack on Mother’s Day (of all days) but I’m glad that your newsletter was the first one I happened upon.
Much love to you.
Christy,
I wish you could see the smile on my face seeing you here. I have thought of you these months. Timing has a way of being perfect, re: that you found your way back on Mother’s Day. . . . I have not forgotten your stories.
Thank you for reading and commenting on what you happened upon.
Much love to you, too.
Oh, what a beautiful, powerful poem. I LOVE Naomi Shihab (it was intriguing to read and be drawn into this poem from beginning to end, not knowing it was her who wrote it!)
And thank you for sharing some history of 'Mother's Day' which is celebrated on different days in different countries, as I have noticed when moving across borders and receiving Mother's Day messages from my kids (and my own mother!) on different days...
I always felt awkward around this day of 'celebrating all the things mothers do for us' (or whatever the narrative). My grandmother died of a broken heart when her beloved son was killed in WWII, at the age of 20. My mother never recovered from the loss of her youngest son who died in a diving accident.
"This day is borne of brokenheartedness." ~ Finally, Mother's Day is making sense to me! I can relate to this ♥️ 🙏
Veronika,
You touch at the heart of why I circled around this week’s letter when you write: “I always felt awkward around this day ‘celebrating all the things mothers do for us’ (or whatever the narrative . . . [including failing at ‘the perfect mother’ narrative]). One of the drafts I tossed took a different tack and pulled us back to a time when the archetypal maternal was wholly celebrated, a time before the Domination Paradigm . . . and the coinciding War Paradigm that would concretize (i.e., Gebser “make sense-full”) the need for a mothers’ day of mourning.
Thank you for this poem, Renee. It’s beautiful. Mother’s Day is a complicated one for me as it is for so many people. I appreciate the little bit of history as well.
Emily,
Thank you for sharing (so honestly as you do). Perhaps by shining some light on the complexities of the day, we can come to it anew: more honestly and with "the tender gravity of kindness". . . .
Yes, Renee. I agree.
Thanks Renee for your words here today. And I loved the poem by Naomi Shihab Nye. A new poet to me, I look forward to exploring more of her work/art.
Julie,
Thank you for sharing. I am appreciating in this moment that we have each recently lent to the other a new poet.
I'm so glad her words were a nice touch yesterday. . . .
Dearest Renée, how deeply you touch emotional waves with your chosen poem…
I wrote of my mother, long gone but no less loved or forgotten, in my last letter - you speak of sadness being necessary in order to recognize kindnesses - I believe this wholly.. but with the profound weight of my own sadness for not knowing in time…
I send you love and my thanks for these words… and a wish for kind days for us all xx
Susie,
Thank you for sharing that this poem from Naomi Shihab Nye touched you so. I have saved your letter to read and now look forward even more. Grief has a life of its own. Doesn't it? I am often struck with the nature of grief as a living essence.
May a loving hand help hold and carry your sadness--all our sadness--Susie.
Tremendous thanks for your kind words, and with love.
No, kindness is a natural thing, should not be loosing something to know it.
Raed,
Thank you for commenting. Kindness *is* natural. Isn't it? And yet, we forget. My sense is that the poet here, Naomi Shihab Nye, attempts to show us that the gravity of life has gifts, strange as may seem.
Ohhh, thanks to reply. That’s so kind of you.
And I agree with you,
And thank *you*, Raed.
Welcome! I’m glad you’re here.
🙏
“The tender gravity of kindness…”— I heard this phrase once and it struck me to the bone. Thank you, Renee, for showing me the poem that it comes from. And the history of Mother’s Day – – there is so much more gravity here than our Hallmark culture wants to give it.
Brenda,
So well said: "it struck me to the bone."
And this one, too: "our Hallmark culture wants." We're not so comfortable with gravity. Are we? And yet . . . kindness.
And yet . . . Simone Weil wrote that through gravity comes the fine light of grace.
It is always wonderful to read a comment from you.
Sending love from our mountains where it's cloudy and cool today and for the next several.
My heart thanks you Renee for sharing this today, my first without my Mom.
Donna,
I was thinking of you yesterday (Mother's Day), and with love.
Once again, Renee, you invite me into the deep.
Megan, thank you. 🙏