Mother Goes Gaga

You’ll get a kick out of Sharon Lippincott’s essay about her mother. Perhaps it will stir up your own memories of infatuation and heartthrob.

Sharon is a lady you should know. She describes herself as being “hooked on all forms of life writing,” which includes what we’re all about here at SM 101: memoir.

For years Sharon has taught life writing classes and workshops, in person and online, and authored The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing, which I highly recommend—it’s one of my go-to books. And you will find oodles of help at her blog, The Heart and Craft of Life Writing.

So, settle in and take a minute or two to enjoy this fun read. Sharon sent it to us after our recent post, Send us your stories about mothers and motherhood. You'll be impressed with her delightful descriptions. We all can learn from her skills.

Mother Goes Gaga

“Let’s go down to Southcenter this morning,” Mother suggests at breakfast. I leap at the idea. I have come over from Richland with two of the kids to pick up our third, who has spent the past week with Mother and Daddy at their new house in Seattle. Trying to keep the kids occupied at her new house is no easy task. They don’t know where things are and don’t have anything to do. They are bored. When they’re bored, they fight. When they fight, Mother gets crazy, and I get a headache from it all. Tomorrow we’ll go home, but today we need to keep busy. A thirty-minute drive down to this major mall should at least kill the morning.

We don’t stay at Southcenter long. The kids each want to run off in a different direction, and shopping for things Mother and I would enjoy is just out of the question.

“Let’s go home,” she announces after about twenty minutes. This isn’t a suggestion or request. It’s an order. We head out to the car and climb in. While the kids squabble over who sits where this time, Mother digs in her purse for her keys. Suddenly she looks up and her head moves forward as she peers intently out the windshield. Her lips are parted. I follow her gaze and notice two men getting in the car parked diagonally in front of us, to the right. The driver is a nicely dressed young man, and an elegantly attractive older man with wavy, snow-white hair opens the door on the passenger side.

Noticing that their headlights are on, I roll my window down and call out to the younger man. “If your car won’t start, it’s because you left the lights on.”

“Oh! Thanks. Could you wait a minute while I check?” he asks, lowering himself into his seat.

I look over at Mother. Her eyes are practically bulging out of their sockets. Her mouth hangs slack, and her knuckles are white from her death grip on the wheel. She gives a weak nod. Sure enough, their car won’t start. The older man lazily unfolds his trim body from the car and saunters in Mother’s direction. She fumbles with the crank in a frenzied attempt to roll the window down. He bends down, leaning his arm casually on the door.

“Do you happen to have any jumper cables we could use?” The words rumble forth, slow sweet, and mellow as well-aged sherry, giving ample exposure to a full set of perfect pearly whites in the process.

“Oh, yes! . . . I’m sure . . . we . . . always carry them!” Mother is stammering. What’s with her? I’ve never seen her in such a state. I get out when she does and walk around to the trunk. She has trouble getting the key in the lock. Again, I’m baffled by her behavior. She’s always had great hand-eye coordination. She finally gets the trunk open and rummages in the contents. She tosses a blanket aside, and moves a couple of small boxes and a mini-cooler. No jumper cables appear. She goes through them all again.

“I . . . I guess I don’t have them today,” she stammers in dismay. “I can’t imagine why they aren’t here. We always carry them.” She’s repeating herself. That’s not like her. Neither is the shrilly quavering voice. She’s acting like a moonstruck teenager, I think. Who is this man, and what has he done to my mother?

“No problem. Thank you so much for checking.” Mystery Man flashes another yard of smile directly at Mother and bows slightly toward her. I half expect him to kiss her hand, but he turns to leave. “Oh! No trouble at all. My pleasure,” she squeaks at his back.

“Try Mall Security. They should be able to help,” I suggest. I don’t want this stranger to think I’m as ditzy as my mother!

“Thank you. Thank you so much. We’ll do that.” He smiles and waves over the top of the door as he slides back into his seat. I watch for a blown kiss, but the moment passes.

Mother sits quietly for a minute, breathing deeply. She’s only a little shaky as she puts the key in the ignition, starts the car and backs out. At this point, I’m relieved that she can manage to drive at all!

“That was Caesar Romero!” she finally gasps as she reaches the end of the lane. “I’ll never wash my car door again!” Her voice has a distinctly misty tone. Now things make sense. I recognize the name of the classic movie star, but wouldn’t have been able to pick him out in a police line-up — unless the others were women. She said she knew he was in town, but of course she never expected to actually meet him.

“Wow, no kidding? He really is a hunk! Good thing I noticed the lights,” I observe with a grin. He hasn’t lost the magic that makes women swoon, I think, especially when they know who he is.

She just nods, lost in a euphoric daze as she heads up the ramp onto I-5. I’m a little awestruck myself. I wonder if I would have been quite so nonchalant if I’d known who he was sooner. I’d like to think so, but in my inner core of truth, I doubt it. I’m glad I didn’t. I decide that only in ignorance could I have given her this gift.

One morning a few months later, Mother is back in Richland for a visit. I’m busy fixing lunches, and she doesn’t say much as she sips coffee, staring out the sliding glass door.

“It really was him!” she announces out of the blue.

“Who? What are you talking about?” I’m lost.

“Him! Caesar Romero!”

“I thought you were sure back then.”

“I was. But he was in Seattle again at the Dinner Theater. We went and sat close to the stage. So now I’m really sure.”

“Wow, that’s great. Maybe someday I’ll run into Robert Redford or Sean Connery in a parking lot somewhere. I wonder if Susan will be with me?”

We both laugh at this happy thought. I turn to unload the dishwasher and she finishes her rice cake.

© 2014, Sharon Lippincott

Sharon has written more than 500 stories and several books including The Heart and Craft of Writing Compelling Description: Selected Blog Posts from The Heart and Craft of Life Writing, and two memoirs, Adventures of a Chilehead, and The Albuquerque Years: My Life as a Preschooler. She serves on the advisory board of National Association of Memoir Writers.

Send us your stories about mothers and motherhood

Have you written stories about your mother in your memoir? If she died young, did another woman step in to mother you—perhaps an older sister, aunt, stepmother, or grandparent? Do you have a special relationship with your mother-in-law?

Maybe your entire memoir is about that significant mother-figure, or possibly you include short vignettes about her here and there.

Or maybe you’ve written about your life as a new mother, empty-nest mother, stepmother, grandmother, or great-grandmother.

Sweet moments, 

     hilarious events, 

          personality quirks, 

               tragic loss, 

                    courageous decisions, 

                         integrity, 

                              tenacity, 

                                   or high adventure

                                        —all make for great reading.

Here’s an opportunity for you:

Send us one of your vignettes! I’ll share one or more here on SM 101.

For now, spiff up your rough draft. Strive for clarity, fix typos, and make your sentences sing.

Go deep. Go beyond mere memories. Reflect: Look under the surface. Search for overlooked significance. What was God doing at the time? Mine those gems!

“ … The author must impost a coherence

on events he chooses to include

that may not have been present as he lived them….

It’s that selectivity that transforms a memoir

from a report to a reflection

which gives meaning to the events

which might not have been evident to the author

as she lived them.”

(The Author’s Dual Role in Memoir, Biff Barnes)

Write about your delights as well as your doubts. Ask questions even if you have no answers. Include your thoughts—even your struggles—concerning your mother, yourself, and what was happening.

Explore. Untangle. What did you learn about yourself? About mothers? Motherhood? God?

“As memoir writers,” Dr. Linda Joy Myers writes, “we are trying to find a perspective, even forgiveness and compassion, for ourselves and others as we write our stories.”

Helpful Tips:

Click here to review the definition of memoir.

Character development

Each person is complex. Develop your character’s shortcomings, redeeming qualities, beliefs, prejudices, body language, tone of voice, attitudes, and quirks.

Was she sentimental or no-nonsense? Hilarious or dour? Consistent or inconsistent? Gentle or gruff? Did she stand tall or did she slouch? Was she optimistic or pessimistic? Did she stress the importance of table manners? What else was important to her?

Emotions

Incorporate emotions—about both happy, joyful events as well as scary things and grief—not all stories have happy endings.

Bring in adventure and humor where you can. Click on How to Add Humor to a Sad Memoir, Lisa Romeo’s post about how, why, and where to include humor in a sad memoir.

Our earlier post, Method Writing, is a must-read for writing about emotions.

Sensory details

If you want readers to enjoy your stories, you must include sensory details. Invite them to see, hear, feel, taste, and smell what you experienced so they can enter your experience with you.

Don’t miss our earlier post, Details: A must for your memoir. It’s packed with resources for you.

Your opening

A story’s beginning can make it or break it. It can invite readers in—or send them away. Most writers experiment with many openings before they get just the right one. Some don’t even try to write it until they’ve finished the main body of the story.

Helpful links:

Leads, Part 1

Leads, Part 2

Leads, Part 3

Leads, Part 4

Your ending

Pay attention to your story's or your vignette’s conclusion. A weak ending can make a story fall short of its potential impact, but a strong one makes a memoir shine.

Helpful links:

The beauty of memoir: Your vignettes’ strong endings

Maximize the power of your vignettes’ endings

Ready, set, go!

Polish one of your vignettes (let’s say up to 1000 words in length) and send it to us. We’ll publish one or more soon. We’ll give you our email address if you leave a comment below, or on SM 101’s Facebook Page, or send a private message.

Happy writing!

Your mother is “the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street”

Continuing with thoughts about mothers and motherhood—your mother, or the mother of your children, or your mother-in-law, or a mother you know: Include details that will make her unique, multi-dimensional, and memorable.  (If you missed last Thursday’s post, click on Your stories about mothers and motherhood.)

Mary Larmoyeux shows us a clever way of capturing a mother’s essence by customizing the following essay:

“Your mother is always with you.

She’s the whisper of the leaves

as you walk down the street.

She’s the smell of certain foods you remember,

flowers you pick, the fragrance of life itself.

She’s the cool hand on your brow

when you’re not feeling well.

She’s your breath in the air on a cold winter’s day.

She is the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep,

the colors of a rainbow;

she is Christmas morning.

Your mother lives inside your laughter.

She’s the place you came from, your first home,

and she’s the map you follow with every step you take.

She’s your first love, your first friend,

even your first enemy,

but nothing on earth can separate you—

not time, not space, not even death.”

(author unknown)

Mary paraphrased that quote to describe her own mother. Here are excerpts:

“My mother is…the reminder that things work out.

She’s the smell of sugar cookies…

and Sunday roast…

and the sight of kneading bread. 

She’s the hand that picked Magnolias,

the sound of prayers with Dad.

She’s the word of kindness needed,

the trust that God’s nearby….

She’s the place that I came from, my first home—

one I’ll always know….”

(Mary Larmoyeux, “Your Mother is Always With You.”)

Set aside a few minutes to do what Mary did:  Using the original quote for inspiration, capture the essence of the mother you’re writing about.

Was she refined and elegant—or salty like Tugboat Annie?

Was she boisterous—or mild-mannered?

Wild and scatterbrained—or methodical and orderly?

Courageous—or cowardly?

Haughty and self-important—or humble and modest?

Self-absorbed—or selfless?

Savvy, graceful, strong—or uninformed, clumsy, weak?  

Petite—or obese?

Did she have a sense of humor—or was she clueless?

onewildword.com/2011/07/13

What were her rituals, her habits, her hobbies, her quirks?

Did she have a short fuse? A voice like an angel? A contagious laugh? A heart of gold?

What did she believe?

What did she live for?

Think about the details the essay’s author used: “the whisper of the leaves,” “your breath in the air on a cold winter’s day,” “the colors of a rainbow.” 

And think about the details Mary chose: “the smell of sugar cookies… and Sunday roast,” “the hand that picked Magnolias,” “the word of kindness needed.”

Capture similar details about the mother in your story. Make her come alive for your readers.

All of us have stories about mothers

and if we’ll make time to put them in writing,

our families will be all the richer for them.

Your stories about mothers and motherhood

What can you write—or should you write—about your mother? Or the mother of your children? Or about being a mother yourself?

All of us have stories about mothers and if we’ll make time to put them in writing, our families will be all the richer for them.

Yes, our families will be all the richer for them. Take in Bruce Feiler’s message:

“What is the secret sauce that holds a family together? What are the ingredients that make some families effective, resilient, happy?”

In researching those questions, Feiler says, “a surprising theme emerged. The single most important thing you can do for your family may be the simplest of all: develop a strong family narrative.”

His research showed that the more children know of their family’s stories, the more they demonstrate emotional health and happiness and the more resilient they are when faced with challenges.

If you’ve followed this blog for a while, you know that when I read those words I hollered, “Yessss! That’s why we write memoirs!” 

Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

Through research, Feiler discovered God was on the right track when He told us to tell our kids and grandkids what we’ve seen Him do for us (Deuteronomy 4:9; 6:5-9; 6:20-25). Their research verifies Jesus knew what he was talking about when he said, “Go tell your family what the Lord has done for you” (Mark 5:19). (Read more at The secret sauce)

Feiler concludes, “Bottom line: if you want a happier family, create, refine, and retell the story of your family’s positive moments and the ability to bounce back from the difficult ones. That act alone may increase the odds that your family will thrive for many generations to come.” (“The Stories That Bind Us,” New York Times)

So, since this is the week of Mother's Day, write stories about your mother or a mother you know or your own motherhood. Such stories are important.

I’ve assembled the following quotes to stir up memories from years ago, quotes to inspire you to get out a pen and paper, or sit down at your computer, and start writing:

“From my mother did I enter this world and from my loins did my children arrive and there is a bond between us mothers that holds generations and families together. There are recipes and stories and birthing and bathing and it’s more powerful than spider’s silk….” (Amanda Hill, “Ode to Mothers”)

“A mother is neither cocky, nor proud, because she knows the school principal may call at any minute to report that her child had just driven a motorcycle through the gymnasium.” (Mary Kay Blakely)

“I believe it is impossible to overestimate the power a boy feels and the influence it has in his life when he looks at his Mother and sees that she has seen him, has looked into his soul and found something there that makes her glow.” (Randall Wallace, Living the Braveheart Life)  

“All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” (Abraham Lincoln)

“I am stretched and tired and fearful. I am wild and brave and broken. My closet has a sense of humor and clothes in every size. I have danced circles into the midnight carpet… rocked restless babies, cut baby curls, snipped fingernails…. I have tripped on Legos, stepped on scooters, slept on bottom bunks, and strung yards of white, twinkling lights above the heads of two blonde brothers afraid of the dark and their bad dreams…. I am overwhelmed, infatuated, love struck and completely unhinged. Especially on the nights they bring in wild flowers and all the every-loving mud in the world….” (Lisa-Jo Baker, “The (real life) dictionary definition of ‘Mother’”)  

“From the time they take their first step, it’s a battle of emotions… cheering them on as they move forward, taking a piece of you farther away with every step. The sleepless nights, the hours of school work at the kitchen table and the fevered afternoons, cool washrag pressed to hot forehead. Who can ever sum up the job description of ‘Mother?’ And all this, when they never belong to us in the first place. Ultimately, the job of a mother is to make herself obsolete.”  (E.P. Hale, “The Leadership Influence of Mothers”)

“The influence of a mother’s leadership may not earn worldly awards, accolades or prestige. But one thing we can be sure of … it makes a difference, maybe even all the difference.” ( E.P. Hale “The Leadership Influence of Mothers”)

“Behind all your stories is always your mother’s story, because hers is where yours began.” (Mitch Albom)

“A mother has a way of seeing through your ugly, and always bearing your burdens. She prays hard and makes you feel that there is love in the universe when you can’t see it and a beating heart when you can’t hear it and consistency in her acceptance even when you feel lost or thrown away…. And she reminds you that God redeems, and we must always forgive, and everything we do must be rooted in kindness.” (Amanda Hill, “Ode to Mothers”)   

“I know of no more permanent imprint on a life than the one made by mothers.... More than any statesman or teacher, more than any minister or physician, more than any film star, athlete, business person, author, scientist, civic leader, entertainer, or military hero ... you are the most influential person in your child's life.  

“There would never have been an Isaac without a Sarah, a Moses without a Jachobed, a Samuel without a Hannah.... 

“And so, mothers, don't ever forget the permanence of your imprint. The kids may seem ungrateful, they may act irresponsible, they may even ignore your reminders and forget your advice these days. But believe this: They cannot erase your influence.” (Chuck Swindoll, “The Greatest Influence”)

Happy Mother's Day!