mothers

Book 42 for 2025: “Hope In A Time of Dying”, Len Leatherwood

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This autobiographical novel was written by a good friend of mine whose own family experienced some of the horrors of the AIDS epidemic in the 1990s. The main character, Hope Winterfield, and her husband make their living as antique dealers in Texas when her elder brother, Robert, a doctor with HIV, convinces them to move with their three daughters to the LA area to help him out. Because their antique business is not doing well and she wants to help her brother, they move, thinking that if it does not work out, they can move back to Texas.

Robert has an ex, Anthony, who is also his business partner, who hates Robert’s new love, the charming, handsome, younger man, Cody. Hope takes the job Robert has offered her, only to discover the dynamics surrounding the job, her brother, friends she has known for years, and many others are nearly overwhelming and that quite often nothing is as it seems. Added to all this is Hope’s difficult mother who often denies the realities of her own life. This is the tale of a family and complicated family dynamics where the main characters have to decide what it most important in life and what they should value the most and fight for.

Book 29 for 2025: “Hang the Moon”, Jeannette Walls

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I had only read her memoir, “The Glass Castle”, previously and remember thinking, wow, even some intelligent, educated people can have very different ideas about how to live. I was looking for a book to read and found this novel, her most recent book published in 2023, at the local library.

The main character, Sallie Kincaid, is the daughter of the wealthiest man in a small town, well even the county, and he runs everyone and everything there. Sallie remembers little of her mother and knows little about what happened to her except she died after a violent argument with her father. He remarries and has a son. Sallie tries to teach him to be bold like she and her father are. This results in a horrible accident and her stepmother demands she leave. Her dad sends her to live with the poor sister of her mother where she remains until she is seventeen. Her dad sends an old friend from her childhood to bring her back to his place, the biggest, grandest house in the county.

It is Prohibition and ways of making a living that have always existed in this area of the mountain Southeast is now illegal. Slavery is over and women can vote but for most life has changed very little. Her stepmom dies, unforeseen tragedies occur, people are not who she thinks they are, and one awful thing after another ensues. This is one of those novels you keep reading because you want to know what happens. It is the story of Sallie Kincaid, a very strong, determined woman who survives and even thrives no matter what.

Book 20 for 2025: “The Color of Water: A Black Man’s Tribute to His White Mother”, James McBride

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I will confess that I read this book before when it first came out decades ago. This past week, I reread it because several women on the street where I live decided to start a book club and this is our first book. McBride’s mother was a remarkable woman who grew up under horrible conditions in the South. Her father, an orthodox rabbi, did not love his crippled wife and made everyone work hard. He was more obsessed with money than religion. Jews were not very welcome where they lived and McBride’s mother found more acceptance and understanding among their Black neighbors. She escapes to NYC, meets and marries a Black, Christian man, converts, and they start a church together. He dies suddenly; she is left with their many children and works hard to make sure her children are successful, sending them off to schools where they are often the only children of color. Then she marries another man and has more children so there are 12 children. This remarkable woman makes sure all of her children go to good schools, go to college, and become successful while she works at what most would consider menial jobs. In this book McBride details not only his own growing up but also the history of his mother and his siblings. It is a remarkable tale of one woman’s determination to keep going, educate her children, and never give up no matter the circumstances.

“Barbie Doll”–in honor of my mother

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Barbara Lewis Duke, pretty, petite, blue-eyed and blond, my

mother, one fearless, controlling woman. Long after Mom’s

death, Dad said, “Barbara was afraid of absolutely on one

and nothing.” They married late, 34 & 38. He adored her

unconditionally. She filled my life with horses, music, love,

cornfields, hay rides, books, and ambition. Whatever she felt she

had missed, my sister and I were going to possess: books,

piano lessons, a college education. Her father, who died long

before I was born, loved fancy, fast horses. So did she. During

my preschool, croupy years, she quieted my hysterical night

coughing with stories of run away horses pulling her in a wagon.

With less than one hundred pounds and lots of determination,

she stopped them, a tiny Barbie Doll flying across the Missouri

River Bottom, strong, willful, free.

Note: This was first published in an anthology and later in my poetry memoir, “On the Rim of Wonder.” My mom loved the color pink and roses, had a rose garden. In the summer there were always crystal bowls on the dining table with roses floating. Today I have roses floating in two stemmed crystal bowls in my kitchen.

Book 12 for 2025: “Girls of Riyadh”, Rajaa Alsanea

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I was not looking for this, but rather accidentally found it while strolling through the stacks at the local library. What an informative and entertaining book. When it was first published in Lebanon in 2005, it sort of shocked the Arab world causing public debates about the subject matter and story both pro and con. The novel centers on the lives of four upper class Saudi young women who have known each other for years and are friends. Because the book openly discusses the difficulties young educated Saudi women have pursuing education and careers while also trying to find suitable men to marry, the religious conservatives found the novel blasphemous and wanted it banned. Others said it disrespected Saudi women. Black market copies showed up everywhere and the author became an overnight sensation.

The book focuses on the difficulties these women experience as they navigate the modern world while still living in a society founded in very conservative patriarchal cultural conditions. They want to believe in love and hope they will find someone to marry they also love. However, traditions get in the way of this goal more often than not. Some of them find someone they love and who loves them but families forbid it–the person is not high enough status or has been divorced, or…the barriers seem endless, focused on family connections. Love is considered a frivolous, unhealthy distraction.

Contrary to what I believed before reading this, most of these higher class Saudi young women are going to college, often in subjects like medicine and dentistry, and plan to pursue careers in their fields. Many have travelled to Europe where they are freer to roam, not dress conservatively, etc. Yet they return home because of close family ties and love of country. Several of the fathers in this novel are considerably more liberal than the girls’ mothers. Like any society the view of progress and tradition vary greatly by family and individual.

Because as a reader you get to “know” these young women, I found myself reading nonstop because I really wanted to know what was going to happen, whether any of them would be allowed to marry someone they loved or would be heartbroken and forced into unwanted situations. The latter never occurred thankfully. None were forced to marry someone they disliked. It is a great read for those who are curious about other cultures and how women navigate their lives in a place dramatically different from what is more common in Europe and the US.

A Tribute to My Mother

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Barbie Doll

Barbara Lewis Duke, pretty, petite, blue eyed and blond, my

mother, one fearless, controlling woman. Long after Mom’s

death, Dad said, “Barbara was afraid of absolutely no one

and nothing.” They married late, 34 and 38. He adored her

unconditionally. She filled my life with horses, music, love,

cornfields, hay rides, books, ambition. Whatever she felt she

had missed, my sister and I were going to possess: books,

piano lessons, a college education. Her father, who died long

before I was born, loved fancy, fast horses. So did she. During

my preschool, croupy years, she quieted my hysterical night

coughing with stories of run away horses pulling her in a wagon.

With less than one hundred pounds and lots of determination,

she stopped them, a tiny Barbie Doll flying across the Missouri

River Bottom, strong, willful, free.

Note: This poem about my mother has been published in at least one anthology and my book of poetry. My mother loved roses, had a rose garden. I now grow roses too.

Book 19 for 2024: “Unearthing”, Kyo Maclear

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Several months after Maclear’s father (who was a famous journalist) dies, she decides to take a DNA test to find out more about her family health and personality history, mainly because of the stories about a particular grandmother. She wonders if certain traits she and her sons have might possibly be inherited. The results of the test are a shock. Her father, the father she adored, who raised her and adored her, is not her biological father. At first, she thinks perhaps it was a sperm donor, but then she discovers this is not the case. Through the DNA test and her detective work, she finds two biological half-brothers (she was an only child before this discovery) who are willing to communicate with her, send her photos, etc. She tries relentlessly to acquire more information from her mother, who is often unforthcoming or tells her contradictory information. Then her mother gets dementia.

This is also a story of plants, of gardening. Both she and her mother are amateur botanists and expert gardeners. When nothing else works in their mother-daughter relationship, their love of plants and gardening holds them together. Even with dementia, her mother knows plants. Their other joint endeavor is ink drawings and love of art.

Additionally, this is the story of family, family secrets, inter-racial marriage, and challenging relationships. Kyo’s mother is Japanese living originally in England and later in Canada who often struggled with her status as a Japanese immigrant. Her “real” father, the one who raised her, was of British and Irish descent; her biological father was a Jewish formula one race car driver.

Barbie Doll– a poem about my mother

/ Juliana Lightle / 1 Comment

Barbara Lewis Duke, pretty, petite, blue-eyed and blond, my

mother, one fearless, controlling woman. Long after Mom’s

death, Dad said, “Barbara was afraid of absolutely no one

and nothing.” They married late, 34 and 38. He adored her

unconditionally. She filled my life with horses, music, love,

cornfields, hayrides, ambition. Whatever she felt she

had missed, my sister and I were going to possess: books,

piano lessons, a college education. Her father, who died long

before I was born, loved fancy, fast horses. So did she. During

my preschool, croupy years, she quieted my hysterical night

coughing with stories of runaway horses pulling her in a wagon.

With less than one hundred pounds and lots of determination,

she stopped them, a tiny Barbie Doll flying across the Missouri

River Bottom, strong, willful, free.

My mother many, many years later with Dad. I took a photo of a photo I have hanging in the hall–the sun reflecting in the windows.

Unconditional Love

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All the beautiful flowers I see today, Mother’s Day 2017, make me think of my mother.  She loved flowers, especially roses, horses, music, beauty.  When I think of her, I also think of unconditional love.  Even when young and I sometimes thought she expected too much of me, I still knew she loved me no matter what the circumstances and always would.  For this I feel unending gratitude.  As a teacher, it has become very clear to me that many children do not experience the kind of love my mother gave me.  She died suddenly many years ago.  Her love will never leave me.  Thank you, Mom, wherever you are!!

Barbie Doll

/ Juliana Lightle / Leave a comment

This poem praises my mother.  It is page 17 of my memoir in poems, “On the Rim of Wonder”.  It seems appropriate to republish it here for Mother’s Day.

 

Barbara Lewis Duke, pretty, petite, blue-eyed, and blond, my mother,

one fearless, controlling woman.  Long after Mom’s death, Dad said,

“Barbara was afraid of absolutely no one and nothing.”  They married

late:  34 and 38.  He adored her unconditionally.  She filled my life

with horses, music, love, cornfields, hay rides, books, ambition.  Whatever

she felt she had missed, I was going to possess:  books, piano lessons, a

college education.  Her father, who died long before I was born, loved fancy,

fast horses.  So did she.  During my preschool, croupy years, she quieted my

hysterical night coughing with stories of run away horses pulling her

in a wagon.  With less than 100 pounds and lots of determination, she

stopped them, a tiny Barbie Doll flying across the Missouri River Bottom,

strong, willful, free.