Ave Maria

There is a day off coming in the middle of this week. The offices will close as we pause during Advent to celebrate Mary’s Immaculate Conception.

I cannot help but think of my own mother whenever there is a Marian feast. She was not immaculately conceived and the older I get, the more realized how complicated she really was. As dementia takes over and her body fails, I will travel 700 miles or so this week to say goodbye. It will be good to be alone in the car. It will be good to see my sisters. It will be good to hold her hand and thank her for doing the best she could.

Mary taught Jesus how to pray. My mother taught us that God was often subtle. Her daily ritual of “Good night. God bless” was as much of an overt prayer as she offered. Her “be careful,” every time you left the house was as much an admonition as a prayerful plea. She once told me she feared something would happen if she didn’t utter those words before we left the house – especially when we started driving.

Mary taught others to do whatever Jesus told them. My mother had a bit of a different take on that. She ruled by fear and you did whatever she told you or you incurred her wrath. I grew up in a physical household and it’s likely one of the reasons I hardly ever touched my children when disciplining them as toddlers.

Still, my mother was generous to a fault. She spent money she didn’t have on things we wanted but didn’t need. Year after year, she allowed her children to invite youth groups, sororities, fraternities, friends, and families to our house and our giant pool and enormous backyard.

You think more about your own parents when you are a parent and I imagine I will soften my own opinions when the phone call comes and mom is gone. The time since dad died has not been easy and is colored by the dynamics of a family that struggles to love each other and a little sister that makes everything messy.

Today, however, I am torn between the memories of the mother I had and the idealized version of the mother I wanted.

Life is complicated. Love is messy.