In February's prompt, we asked readers to "Write about something from the natural world that functions as a metaphor for your experience of motherhood."
Jennifer Gifford wrote,
"One September morning the newspaper warned that a bear cub had been hit on the interstate and the mother bear was likely to pace there looking for her baby. Reading this at seventeen weeks pregnant with my first baby, I wept at the notion. A week later, my own baby was dead.
Nights passed and spring came. Before my baby’s death I might have said that mothering and spring – growing things – have much in common. Reap what you sow, nurture, feed, pay attention…and they will grow. Now I understand the metaphor differently. Throw some geraniums in the window box and walk away. Mow over the chives and hack back the roses. They’ll grow or die whether I love them or hate them, despite my efforts to care for them or ignore them or kill them. Fertilizer, water, talking to them; it’s not that it doesn’t matter what I do. Matter cannot be destroyed, it just changes shape, right? There are forces bigger than me that take care of things, or don’t. My baby was starving and suffocating in my womb, ready to die but nature wouldn’t let her yet. I terminated my pregnancy and sent her ashes to grow into space. My first act of motherhood was to send us face down into raw dirt, suffocated by violent animal grief.
So that spring my garden grew despite my rage. I glared at the petunias and denied them water, yet if they wilted, I wilted in response, wounded by their inability to survive my abuse. My penance was dizzy weeding, newly pregnant again, blood pumping furiously, trying to make the bending and brooding look “normal” – everything’s ok, just taking care of my garden!
Years later I watched a television show about polar bears while my babies slept in their beds. A baby bear swam with her mama through stormy cold ocean, both of them tossed awkwardly in the waves. The narrator gravely explained the purpose of their treacherous journey, and then showed a dead polar cub washed up on the shore. Why didn’t she just sink? Where was her mama? Naturally, the next scene was of a healthy pair, mother and baby, resting in the sun, waiting expectantly."
By Jennifer Gifford, jgifford8 at yahoo dot com
Susan Ito, LM's Life in the Sandwich columnist, has published an online version of, "The Lost Story," in the Readerville Journal.
Thomas Wolfe's tale of a lost brother broke open the heart of a woman whose name I don't remember. And in the dark humid night, while everyone else slept, she gave me the key that binds us all together, those of us who have lost things, who have known suffering and joy and those moments that melt in the smallest instant and then disappear. Stories are a way of holding those moments, either true or imagined, of finding once again the brother with the berry-colored birthmark, the father who smiled through a cloud of sawdust, the anonymous evening when we sparked into being.
Elrena Evans, LM's marketing and publicity manager, is giving a reading next Tuesday, March 4th, at Messiah College in PA. It's at 7:30 and is free and open to the public, and a reception will follow.
Check out Elrena's story, When the Light was Still New, published by the Wild Rose Press.
When the daughter of a vineyard owner is betrothed to a man she cannot love, she pleads with her father to reconsider. But, in ancient Israel, age-old traditions are not dismissed lightly.
Can she escape the forced marriage? Will she be allowed to marry her true love? And what will her betrothed do when he finds out she is trying to get out of the arrangement?
When you’re a young woman living in a world of men’s traditions, sometimes all you can do is pray for a miracle.
Avon Harper Collins will publish Kristina Riggle's debut novel, Real Life and Liars, in the summer of 2009. It's about a fading flower child who has her own idea about how to treat her breast cancer -- which doesn't include surgery -- much to the dismay of her three grown children whose personal crises just might shake her resolve.
We'd like to introduce LM's new E-Zine Editor, Marie Walden.
Marie lives in Colorado Springs, Colorado, with her husband and six children. After a number of years as a stay-at-home mom and community volunteer, she returned to the workforce as a CPA and found that putting on panty hose and pumps was infinitely less enjoyable than wearing pajama pants and Uggs. She quit her job, turned her living room into a lovely workspace, and took up writing and other soul-nurturing arts with fervor. She is writing a book on financial savvy for newlywed women and blogs for Not My Tribe and Wanderlust and Lipstick.