Goodbye, Maya

I was struck by the news of your death yesterday morning as if I had just lost a family member or close friend, for indeed, you were both.

Your voice, your voice....during many tough years of my life, when I was dealing with both internal and external problems, I would listen to your audiobooks in the car, read by you, the author.

I would drive around, trying to think, trying to heal, trying to find my way out of a variety of messes, with you as company.  Your words flowed over me, resonating in my very soul, soothing me, strengthening me, and guiding me.

When I put on your audiobooks, I was reassured that I was ok, and that Everything. Would. Be. Ok.  In fact, we'd get through it together.

Indeed, you were an activist, on the world stage, on theater stages, on the shelves of libraries and bookstores, and on the silver screen.

But to me, you were my Godmother. 

I saw you in person when you spoke at Bergen Community College in the spring of 2004.  When you walked to the stage, dressed in an elegant, soft blue-grey gown, my tears just started flowing.  There you were.  Maya.  A real person, in person.  It was one of the best days of my life.  I will never forget it.

I read your books many times, underlining passages, making notes.  In the most fragile of times, I would keep one of your books in my bag, for strength in weak moments.

We have lost a great national treasure, a great writer, a great person.  But I know I am not alone in saying that I have lost my Godmother.  You touched thousands in the exact same way....or maybe in thousands of different ways. 

You are with the Angels now.  You always said that you could not even consider calling yourself a Christian until your life is done.  Well rest assured, Maya, that you walked more like Jesus than most of us could even dream of, and spread love and light and rainbows
everywhere you went.  Mission accomplished.

Goodbye, sweet Godmother, and though you are gone, you will always live in my heart through your words, your voice, and my gratitude for helping to save me and many others.  You will forever be a shining star.

With Gratitude

To M.F. - Thank you for guiding me and teaching me how to *live*.  Now it's time for me to do some living.  You will always be with me.   :)

A Walk in the Woods - Happy Mothers' Day

This advice to writers from one of my favorite authors, Barbara Kingsolver, goes against everything I have ever done, or tried to do, but I do think it is the answer to this blog and many other venues in which I write or speak. As a teacher, I do a lot of writing and speaking, so this is a breath of fresh air to me.  As a mom, I know very well that what I DO is more important than any motherly advice I might give.  It is what's inside that counts as a mom.  It's who I am, what kind of role model, that matters.

I have yet to figure out a way to be myself among most people.  I have yet to figure out a way to speak my truth without completely overdoing the emotional side..I don't even know why I do that.  Is it fear that nobody will hear me or believe me?  Is it a desperate cry for some kind of empathy?  Am I just inept in the normal range of social skills?  Social anxiety?

Who knows....and it doesn't matter why.  But it is definitely something to think about, apply to my writing, and apply to my living.

Anyway, I did one of my favorite things with my two favorite people today.  I went for a mothers' day walk in the woods with my two daughters.  E enjoyed the first half hour of it, then started to get bored but kept that to herself since it is mothers' day and I told her that her present to me was to go for this walk in the woods.  My little one, K, enjoyed the whole thing, looking at the doggies, waving to the people from her stroller, and being her charming self.  It is a gorgeously beautiful day, the leaves are finally green, and the people on the trail were happy and friendly.  Nothing like a beautiful day outdoors to bring out the best in people.  Strangers wished me a happy mothers' day.  It was a treat.  The water in the lake was as blue as the cloudless sky, and the air smelled fresh and piney.

This morning, E made me French toast and I got great presents and a funny card from J.  I wished my mom a happy mothers' day and she wished one to me, and I remembered, with gratitude, how lucky I am to still have a mom.

It's been a hard winter.  A long, cold, frustrating, and depressing winter.  Not just because of the weather, but that didn't help.  Today felt like renewal.  Like newness.  Like life might just go on and begin again, like it always does in the spring.

And that's another thing I need to remember.  Spring does come.  She always does. 

Love,
Moonshelle