Mama - Writing

Caroljoy, it's time to do your homework.  ARGH!  Those words scraped across my young nerves more effectively than finger nails on a chalkboard.  My young rebellious soul did NOT like to be told what to do, or when to do it.  This frequently caused my Mom and I to be at odds.  She was a person that needed rigid structure within her day.  On our refrigerator were daily schedules, lists of chores, time the piano was to be practiced, and other items that gave her day, our days, form and shape.  I HATED rigid structure.  I wanted and needed to just let each day unwrap slowly like the best Christmas gift.

The problem with my way of living in each day was that often there was NO consistency.  I would not practice the piano for days (without her loving, firm insistence).  Homework?  I would do the bare minimum to get by. 

Add to this my chronic illnesses, allergy asthma, chronic bronchitis, and basically allergies to every substance on the planet.  I also had a compromised immune system.  This inability to plan ahead effectively also made my rather Bohemian outlook on life more understandable.

Mama...she got smarter as I grew up.  Instead of confronting me face on for example, "Caroljoy, it's your turn to do the dishes.  Get to it, NOW!"  She would use reverse psychology (I somehow did not realize that was what she was doing until I had children of my own).  "Caroljoy, I will do the dishes tonight.  I know that you've had a busy, hard day today.  Don't worry about them, I'll do them."

"Oh no you won't.  I will do the dishes.  It's my turn and I WILL DO THEM!" 

Looking back I can remember a little smile that she would have.  Wily and cunning my Mama was.  Loving and wise as well.  She knew that my health kept me from being consistent in my life.  That rigid structure was her way of creating a form of normalcy in spite of my health issues.

Let's move down the years to 2012, Mother's Day.

This Mother's Day held a golden moment for me.  I took my first novel, Beth, Women of the Drifting Anchor Ranch to my 93 year old Mama.  I used her pen name Vivian Varlowe, (with her permission) for my series.  There was that name that so long ago she'd decided to write with proudly across the top of the book cover.

As she held the novel up her brilliant, brown eyes, (they still sparkle like diamonds), filled with soft, joyous tears.

I said, "Mama, it took awhile but you made it!  YOU and I are published!  I would never have had the talent, skill, or determination to write a novel if you hadn't been my fan club, my teacher, my structure creator, and my beloved friend."

Then came the warmest of hugs, and the sharing of long held love.  For me the achievement of a goal is ALWAYS sweeter when shared with my Mother!

There have never been extensive, comprehensive lists of chores to do, and times to get them done by, as we raised our two daughters.  Yet there WAS a sense of continuity.  A formatting of life's needs and directions was an important gift to our girls.

Just as Mama contributed to my writing with her patient teaching, reverse psychology, and a terrific pen name, I hope that I have given a similar gift to this next generation...our daughters.  Then I hope they pass along those skills, those ideals to their children.