My Mother Understood

by | May 8, 2014 | Editorial

For my 10th birthday my grandmother gave me a book entitled, My Poetry Book- An Anthology of Modern Verse for Boys and Girls edited by Huffard, Carlisle, and Ferris.

That book (which I still own) became a cherished companion for many years. In some ways I feel like its metaphors melted into me and I took its rhythms into my body. I loved that book!
Just a few years ago I was looking at it on my shelf and it suddenly occurred to me that my grandmother was an Ellis Island immigrant who barely spoke English. Surely, she didn't frequent bookstores.
It had to have been my mother who bought me that book in my grandmother's name, my mother who really got me, who understood me as a ten year old! As soon as I realized this, I called my mother to thank her. We had a good laugh over it and when we hung up I had a good cry. Sometimes I think we don't appreciate our mothers enough.
My mother is 86 now, may she live and be well. I'm lucky to have her.

That book (which I still own) became a cherished companion for many years. In some ways I feel like its metaphors melted into me and I took its rhythms into my body. I loved that book!
Just a few years ago I was looking at it on my shelf and it suddenly occurred to me that my grandmother was an Ellis Island immigrant who barely spoke English. Surely, she didn't frequent bookstores.
It had to have been my mother who bought me that book in my grandmother's name, my mother who really got me, who understood me as a ten year old! As soon as I realized this, I called my mother to thank her. We had a good laugh over it and when we hung up I had a good cry. Sometimes I think we don't appreciate our mothers enough.
My mother is 86 now, may she live and be well. I'm lucky to have her.