The Masks of Mother: A Biography

This then is the unapproved biography of my mother and significant others of her times. Images dredged from memory, distant and far, real-for-sure and not quite, fragments peeking at bits of a life that if she were here, she'd be for once just briefly at a loss for words. A tension between "mind your own business" and a more reflective to herself, "well I am on peoples' minds so OK...." she would say, "let's see it all."

Like many of her "greatest" generation, mother seemed fated to be an underachiever. Scuppered by the Depression, WWII, and burgeoning middle-class misogyny, her life-time lament and battle cry was, "I could have been...!" And indeed she could and should have been all those self-affirmed bits of fame and many even grander. She had talents for the world that evidently to her, and latterly to me, went to waste. But she was after all -- a mother, wife, sibbling, daughter and friend -- each and all worthy of counting and reflection. Her value, her life achievements, her character -- went too often unrecognized and uncelebrated by her and most others. But "worthy" they were and deserve real time and real space. This is a paltry, but sincere effort to rectify.

As to the fragments this "biography" really is an assemblage of fragments that elude a conventional beginning, middle and end. At least after all, I remain in search of the why's and wherefore's of who she was. To my mind, the fragments of memory do jump around and fade too often to really nail the full rendering and contemplation of her life. In a way, they remain in search of a clear story line with clear character development. I know she would expect clarity. But I wasn't there for most of it. I got a bit. Still missing more. Of the which, she'll surely be in touch.

Dettagli