Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Clarity

There are statements my mother made that struck me at the time she spoke them and now, months or years later those things still strike me. Perhaps I should write my mother's story for posterity, that is, for future generations. (I wish you could see the whiteout on the other side of my window as I type this.)

When I went back to college (2007-2009) I learned that "history" was the story more of "mankind" than "womankind." Often women have not been important enough to be mentioned by name, perhaps because of the shame of her actions that is being told? Or because someone is intimidated by her intelligence? Who knows for sure why women are less likely to be named in history? Of course, Cokie Roberts got my attention with her book, Founding Mothers: The Women Who Raised Our Nation.

Remember Lot's wife? She's the one who looked back and was turned to a pillar of salt. She didn't have a name. At least, she was not named in those scriptures.

And when you took history in public school, what did you learn about Benjamin Franklin? Did you know his wife's name was Debra? Did you know he went to Europe and lived as a diplomat for 12 years, never visiting Debra in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania USA where she oversaw his business ventures? That the only reason he returned then was because she was dead? You can read it in Cokie's book.

Women's stories DO need to be recorded for the generations of women who follow those women. How did women arrive at this modern moment in time? What did they have to suffer through simply to survive? What sacrifices did they make--have to make--to enable today's women to enjoy the opportunities that are available?

I don't know everything about Mom's life, but with my knowledge and with the assistance of recorded history, recorded herstory, perhaps I can create a composite of the chutzpah of women who have been dominated by patriarchy and rose above it. (My doctor tells me that "we don't live that way any more." I didn't say I agree with him.)

My mother did a lot of things, but she never realized the dreams she aspired to, was born to. Perhaps through me (her daughter), her granddaughters, the women who knew her, her dreams may be realized to some degree, to inspire the Self to strive for the greatest potential regardless of the biology of the body.

"You can do anything you want, achieve what you want, if you're willing to work hard to achieve it."

When did Mom become so tired? When did she realize there was no point in fighting any more because she wasn't ever going to win?

How can it be a complete white-out one moment, and just less than a second later the sun be shining and the red brick of the house across the street so sharply defined?

(c)2012 Cathy Thomas Brownfield ~ All rights reserved.