I went to see the St. Louis show for Listen to Your Mother yesterday. Even though I had submitted a story and had not been chosen, two of my writing friends had been chosen. And since Lynn and I were the only WWWPs (Wild Women Wielding Pens) who were in town, we had to represent our critique group.
'Cause that's what writers do. We support each other...
One woman--a young mother--came on stage gorgeous and looking quite "normal." However, she shared her story of having a mother who was anything but normal. Her mom spent her time--instead of with her family--in a bar. This writer (she was like 9 or 12--some too-young-for-this-ugliness age) would take two buses to go to the bar and try her convince her mother to get her a@@ off the barstool and come home.
She now has several sons, a husband, and worries constantly since she was never taught how to be mother...how can she be a loving mother to her boys? The answer: she tells them every day, many times a day, "I love you." (Lynn and I sat next to these boys. They are well loved.)
Linda O'Connell shared a story she had never shared with her critique group. Lynn and I had the pleasure of hearing it for the first time, like the rest of the audience.
Kim Lenhoff--despite claiming she was nervous--got in front of the auditorium and told about raising an autistic, bi-polar son. Because she has the courage, perhaps others will...She was afraid her knees would knock in nervousness, and I told her I was looking forward to them knocking so much, she would start a fire. What a way to add excitement. Sadly, Kim + no sign of fear = no inferno.
Another writer--made us all sob. She suffered through many miscarriages, and when she finally was able to give birth to twins, it was because her Japanese-born (late) mother had helped her "catchee baby."
Happy Mother's Day. For those who are fortunate enough to still have their mother with them, call or hug them. For those who are lucky enough to have children and grandchildren, enjoy the day. When the Listen to Your Mother writers took a bow at the end of the show, I took a picture with my phone. Because of their movement and my photographic skills, they're a blur of motion. But it makes me think...My story blurs into your story which blurs into her story, which blurs into his story. We all have heartbreak and joy in our lives.
We all have a story to tell...