It has been a pleasant Mothers’ Day, Covid-19 notwithstanding. Saturday’s weather arrived as a rude and unwelcome winter guest, unconcerned with whether we were prepared for his visit. Sunday greeted us with his prompt departure. Spring has returned. We celebrated as a family with games of fetch and soccer at the field near our home.
One benefit of reflection / blog-posts is an opportunity to consider prior intent. Last week, I intended to reduce time engaged with certain forms of media, read Alexander Hamilton’s Guide to Life, and connect intentionally with my daughter on the Hamilton book. Those were good priorities and I am pleased with the results.
In other news, my stack of unread magazines continues to grow. Of particular interest to me, as I worked my way through unread copy, was The Mail section of the April 27th New Yorker. Jill Lepore must have written an article on loneliness the previous week which touched some readers’ nerves. Specifically, these two quotes stood out to me:
I wouldn’t say that I’m happy under shelter-in-place orders, but I disagree with the assertion that solitude necessarily leads to intractable problems. I myself find deep pleasure and freedom in living alone. Many women, after a lifetime of unsupported, unpaid, inescapable caregiving, experience relief and self-actualization on their own.
Anna Sojourner of San Francisco, California
Lepore blurs the line between loneliness and solitude… I have lived alone since my partner died of AIDS, in 1990. I enjoy solitude, and feel no more or less lonely than anyone else.
Fenton Johnson of Tucson, Arizona
I imagine that the imposition of social distancing may create increased feelings of isolation and loneliness. It seems some people have developed a foundation on which to cope with, and perhaps thrive in, such an environment. I wonder, of what materials are such foundations formed?
I was reflecting earlier today on our family’s good fortune to have experienced rich relationships with our extended families, and the close proximity and good health of our parents, including both our mothers. I did not have the opportunity to meet Becca’s grandmothers, but am fortunate that she had the opportunity to build a relationship with both of mine. I spent some time today looking at photos:
These strong and intelligent women came from different places and different times. Jersey City, NJ; Hasle, Bornholm; Paramus, NJ; State College, PA. The branches of our family by way of their motherhood continue to expand, including our cousin Nina Bro’s newest arrival, Nos, following a trio of recent Thorsen arrivals, including my niece, Aya.
I keep a book of Emily Dickinson’s poems by my chair that I look at occasionally. This morning, I came across this poem:
THERE is another Loneliness That many die without, Not want or friend occasions it, Or circumstances or lot. But nature sometimes, sometimes thought, And whoso it befall Is richer than could be divulged By mortal numeral.
The experiences of Dickinson, who lived a form of self-imposed seclusion, can help inform those of us who, like Jill Lepore, may have difficulty reconciling the differences of seclusion and loneliness. Maybe the New Yorker will consider a follow-up article incorporating the experiences and views of Sojourner and Johnson. I imagine the common foundation amongst those that live best is a present and loving mother.
I feel gifted for my own mother and her love and presence in our lives. I also feel gratitude for those who have passed on, like my Babci and Bedstemor; They were both so very special. And I am confident that as Camilla and Holger grow older, they will treasure the presence and love they received from Becca as children.
Happy Mothers’ Day to you all.