May 18th, 1981...

5/9/10


...that's when I got to rest in my mamas arms for the first time. She was already a mother to my brother, Danny, and she would be a mother again to my sister, Caiti, in the future.

"She is radiance, she is white wedding dresses and newborn babies and snorting laughter and innocence and earth and pain and boobs and hipbones and tenderness and resilience and painted fingernails with dirt underneath. Woman, Wendy, you couldn’t be more beautiful."

-from the short story, "Of Ropes and Bootstraps", by Caiti Kenney

My mother never deterred any of us kids from what we loved. Danny dreamed of being a Doctor and he is now a Doctor. Caiti spills out words onto paper that can only come from someone with a true gift to write, and she has completed two incredible short stories. She sings like an angel and so she has always been urged to sing...and to keep playing with bugs. For me it was always music and horses and I still hold tight to music and horses.

For us there was never any other way. I don't think our mom would have let us choose a different route if we wavered a bit on our dreams. She dreams our dreams as much as we do and has supported us all.

"Are you going to sing a little tonight for me?"

"Ah, I don't know", I would answer. "Alright, maybe, but I think I'm going to face the wall tonight."

"That's okay! I don't mind! I'm just happy to hear you sing! Maybe you can try and face sideways?" my mom would ask.

"Mmmmm, yeah maybe. Let me just sing the first song facing the wall. Ah, alright, I think I can face sideways."

"Oh good. I like it when you face sideways".

That was me in middle school and high school. I had a karaoke machine in my room and my mom would sit on my 4 post iron bed and listen to me practice Barbara Streisand and Whitney Houston tunes facing away from her. I was always really shy about singing so I slowly (after years) worked my way to facing the side wall so my mom would get my profile while I sang.

This is the support I am talking about. I had such a love to sing. A love so strong that I felt there was nothing else in the world I was meant to do. It was/is my true passion, but I was scared to do it at the same time. My mom would push me to sing and gently nudge me to slowly face her. I didn't have to if I really didn't want to, but she wanted it so badly and I wanted so badly to do it for her. So slowly I turned until I could perform on a stage in a theater full of hundreds of people.

My mother looks at you through glorious green eyes (that she inherited from her mother) and you are instantly penetrated with love and gentleness. She has always taught us to be kind and to try and never make another person feel sad.

"Always have an easy smile, Linny."

Posture is a big thing, too. We are all told to stand tall.

"Remember how your ballet teacher was!?" she would say to me. "She would yell 'laaaadddiiiieeeessssssSSSS!!!!' and you all straightened your little backs. It's important, posture."

My mom always kept me strong when someone might say something that hurt a little. And you know, any bumps or bruises, insecurities, or bad looks I may gather along the way and zip inside this skin of mine, I'll take it. Because it means head rubs, grilled cheese sandwiches (that only taste good when she makes them), long talks, and laughter through tears. Tears because you're sad, and laughter because she's reminded you it's all going to be okay. Moms can do that. In this life and into whatever time carries us on to next, Moms can always do that.

Happy Mothers Day, Mama. I love you. Happy Mother's Day to my Grandma, Alice Trotta, and my Grandma Thelma Gorman, too, and my Nana, Jacqueline Kenney.

And to all the women in my life...you are my inspiration and my teachers.