tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post1634122161969543015..comments2024-03-29T08:07:36.632-04:00Comments on Jungle Red Writers: On Mother's Day... Jungle Red Writershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16646429819267618412noreply@blogger.comBlogger47125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-26288553310299986732013-05-14T17:50:16.924-04:002013-05-14T17:50:16.924-04:00What a great piece! Thank you!What a great piece! Thank you!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-26098113879017848722013-05-14T15:51:58.581-04:002013-05-14T15:51:58.581-04:00I was 15 when I told my mom I wanted to go to coll...I was 15 when I told my mom I wanted to go to college. "Then you better start working because we're not paying for it." <br />I did.<br />The evening before I left for college-the first in my family to attend-my mom caught me in the living room making out with my then boyfriend who later become my husband and now is my former.Caught in this heavy petting moment, she whispered through clenched teeth, "I don't know why you're going to college, you're just going to end up pregnant"and left the room. <br />I didn't. <br />My mom was tired by the time I came along. If she had any dreams, they were long gone. What remained was a woman, a beauty in her day, who had surrendered to the belief that "It's a man's world"a phrase she repeated often. <br />Did I love her? I adored her. Did she help me get to the next level? With no view of what that level might be for a young woman growing up in the sixties, she did not. <br />I miss her everyday but on Mother's Day, especially. Marla Millerhttp://www.marlamiller.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-43568258562549302732013-05-13T19:20:07.837-04:002013-05-13T19:20:07.837-04:00Hallie, I can relate. One of Mom's (she just t...Hallie, I can relate. One of Mom's (she just turned 90 and is still as ornery as ever) favorite things to say when I was a kid was, " It's better to raise tomatoes, at least you can eat them". Do I need to say anything more? At least she loves my Granddaughter. BTW....the tomato comment is the title of my coming of age book, if I ever finish it. I hope you had a great Mother's Day!Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05370203823334390601noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-43112481281323991402013-05-13T09:52:50.549-04:002013-05-13T09:52:50.549-04:00Linda, Karen, Deb R - Thank YOU!Linda, Karen, Deb R - Thank YOU!Hallie Ephronhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04759439029582054503noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-56373845913472467382013-05-12T19:17:44.416-04:002013-05-12T19:17:44.416-04:00Hallie, this is a great blog offering. Thank you.
...Hallie, this is a great blog offering. Thank you.<br /><br />Debs, that was the very nicest thing to say to me. I'm sorry about the word, nice. Sounds trite. But I can't think of a better one, so I'll just keep writing.<br /><br /><3Maureen Harringtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03499876353651763590noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-9614686623986735102013-05-12T19:17:17.713-04:002013-05-12T19:17:17.713-04:00A couple of days ago I posted here about my mom...A couple of days ago I posted here about my mom's loving, compassionate nature. Today one of my sisters posted on FB that our mom was the kindest person she's ever known, and I wholeheartedly agree. She was definitely a hugger, picker-upper, Hallie. She died at the end of 1997. On occasion I am introduced to people who knew her, and I have lost track of how many of them - men as well as women - cry when they find out I'm her daughter, and then tell me how much they still miss her. I wish I could have shared her with those of you who had a different sort of mother/child relationship. She believed that each of us could accomplish whatever we wanted to do, and gave us full moral support and encouragement. <br /><br />I know she would have enjoyed reading books by the ladies of JRW, and I've decided that Hallie's writing style would appeal to her the most! So I thought it was pretty interesting when your description of your mothering style sounded so much like my mom's!Deb Romanonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-6966869117338071242013-05-12T19:16:23.446-04:002013-05-12T19:16:23.446-04:00Hallie, thank you, so much, for the gift of this b...Hallie, thank you, so much, for the gift of this blog. We don't all have fairy tale mothers who support us every minute of every day, and who sacrifice everything for us, so it's lovely to have a place like this to share our real stories. As opposed to the "Christmas letter" stories one sees on Facebook, yes? <br /><br />It's been a great Mother's Day, but this blog has been a rare treat today. Karen in Ohionoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-64592064882590116222013-05-12T19:12:00.845-04:002013-05-12T19:12:00.845-04:00Hallie, you brought me to tears with your story of...Hallie, you brought me to tears with your story of your mother. I think Jack's right about a deeper, longer piece.<br /><br />My mother got pregnant with me her senior year in high school. My grandmother, who'd only had the chance to finish the 8th grade and was self-conscious about that all her life, wanted her daughter to go to college and desperately tried to find a way for her to have an abortion, which was illegal at that time. I love that picture of my minister's-wife, always-proper grandmother struggling to learn where to get an illegal abortion for her beloved daughter--the mother love that allowed her the courage to step outside the narrow boundaries life in those days allowed her. Of course, she failed because she had no idea how to go about committing a crime or finding anyone who committed crimes. So my mother married a man she adored who put her in the hospital from beatings more than once, who raped her oldest daughter (me) as a child and raped many other grown women, who was a raging drunk, a compulsive gambler, a sociopathic con man, and a handsome charmer.<br /><br />I'm older now than my mother ever lived to be--she died before she turned 50. She was never able to love me and was a bitter, vindictive, and judgmental woman. Also, she had a wicked sense of humor, and she tolerated no fools. She could be pretty witty and charming herself when she wanted--and full of violent rage as well.<br /><br />To people who would blame her, I must explain that she was younger most of that time than my own daughter is now. Mom turned 18 one week after I was born, and by the time she was 28, she had six children. I must explain to the people who would blame her how hard life was for women in those days, especially if they'd made a mistake in whom they married. No one, not even her family, would help her get away from this violent man. She had no way to make a living and support all those children.<br /><br />My great regret is that my mother didn't live long enough to see better days. Her life was pretty much a living hell of violence, alcohol, poverty, and a society that held her in contempt. I like to think I've worked hard all my life to ensure that other women have more and better options and never have to go back to what my poor mother, really just a girl, had to endure.Linda Rodriguezhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11913741596693442469noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-69903043287479063462013-05-12T19:06:58.375-04:002013-05-12T19:06:58.375-04:00Hallie, Thanks for your story about your mother. D... Hallie, Thanks for your story about your mother. Despite the tough times you had with each other, you convey the amazing and talented woman she was, how complicated people (including mothers!) can be. My mom and dad died 8 years ago, 14 hours apart. Still miss her. There are plenty of Mom stories in me, but they're just bubbling to the surface. I am so moved by all the comments written here that have provoked and inspired memories. Thank you all.<br /><br />Lizhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11750490979885925427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-85897115868807870882013-05-12T18:39:18.362-04:002013-05-12T18:39:18.362-04:00Beautiful, Hallie. Beautiful, Hallie. Jan Broganhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11323983086318138814noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-10803988144454870552013-05-12T18:23:56.447-04:002013-05-12T18:23:56.447-04:00Such an interesting point, Kristi -- Wish I'd ...Such an interesting point, Kristi -- Wish I'd been a fly on the wall, listening to your "discussion" with La Paretsky.Hallie Ephronhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04759439029582054503noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-33503193688249575832013-05-12T18:22:36.487-04:002013-05-12T18:22:36.487-04:00Marianne! Girls, girls, girls!! My mother had four...Marianne! Girls, girls, girls!! My mother had four -- I had two -- and so far it's carrying into the next generation. Don't know what I'd do with a boy baby. Ridiculous plumbing.Hallie Ephronhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04759439029582054503noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-18468878726276645072013-05-12T17:27:58.999-04:002013-05-12T17:27:58.999-04:00Anonymous, please know that some of us like readin...Anonymous, please know that some of us like reading about nice people! Screw relationship tension, that's what I say, and give me a good, solid plot, any day! I had that argument with Sara Paretsky once at Bouchercon... why did VI have to be so nasty -- curt and begrudging -- to Lottie Herschel, who was her elder, a learned woman who had done much to help VI? Ms. Paretsky also gave the argument that women need to learn not to be so nice all the time... but I still think "really? Can't we maybe set an example and coach the rest of the world until they join us in civility and respect?" <br /><br />Happy Mother's Day! <br />Kristihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07605406591025175181noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-6800664074377239192013-05-12T17:07:05.851-04:002013-05-12T17:07:05.851-04:00Great stories. Thank you, all.
My Mum was in Nur...Great stories. Thank you, all.<br /><br />My Mum was in Nursing School when Pearl Harbor was attacked. She enlisted in the Navy as soon as she graduated and served until 1946. She came back to Maine and was introduced to a Law Student from Boston on a blind date. They married as soon as he graduated and 11 months later I was born. I think it's funny that 2 years later I had a sister, three years later another sister, and 4 years later even another sister. And the last two even share a birthday.<br /><br />My mother didn't work outside the home until my youngest sister was in high school. She was a Labor and Delivery nurse and years later when my sisters had babies (all girls), my mother was able to be with them.<br /><br />She was - and still is - a fabulous Mom. She was always there to be a Girl Scout leader, or chauffeur, or laundress, or birthday cake baker using those little sugar letters to spell out "Happy Birthday." My father died in 1985 and I know she misses him desperately. I wish he had lived longer so they could have enjoyed retirement together.<br /><br />We had brunch with her this morning. Ninety-three and enjoying good health but probably unable to remember what she ordered this morning. Her memory is fading rapidly. She was able to speak with her great-granddaughters by phone today and that made her happy. (All girls, did you catch that?)<br /><br />Sorry I rambled. I'm very proud of my mother the veteran. And we're so glad to still have her with us.Marianne in Mainenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-14511245036398325942013-05-12T15:40:01.565-04:002013-05-12T15:40:01.565-04:00Drinking ... it was toxic for my mom, too, Susan S...Drinking ... it was toxic for my mom, too, Susan Shea. I'm sure if it were today she'd have been put on prozac. Instead it's self medicating up to a point and then it turns nasty and eats its own children.Hallie Ephronhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04759439029582054503noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-59657109522740513782013-05-12T15:38:28.147-04:002013-05-12T15:38:28.147-04:00Mar - you (and Smom) were so fortunate! Mar - you (and Smom) were so fortunate! Hallie Ephronhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04759439029582054503noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-47597548401803247262013-05-12T15:16:27.676-04:002013-05-12T15:16:27.676-04:00I tend to use the phrase "No one knows what g...I tend to use the phrase "No one knows what goes on behind closed doors" when it comes to woman who gave birth to me - she was Not a nice mother at all<br /><br />My wonderful Smom, Norma, who Daddy married after my "mother died" was the sweetest, kindest woman and Norma was "My MOTHER" <br /><br />She left us last year at 93 and I miss her so much, she's "home" with Daddy now <3<br /><br />MarRosie123https://www.blogger.com/profile/11528374618939863598noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-81541649997370459972013-05-12T15:05:35.159-04:002013-05-12T15:05:35.159-04:00The skeleton story is the same: an unfulfilled mot...The skeleton story is the same: an unfulfilled mother with talent and ambition, sidelined to a limited stereotype that didn't fit, drinking to blunt the anger. In my mother's case, the drinking warped the frustration so it came out in such unpleasant ways that it eventually broke up the family. I was 24 when she died at 53 or 55 (she was hard to pin down) and I was too young to see clearly how other people's expectations had hammered her soul...Susan C Sheanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-9544322446941736132013-05-12T14:19:40.171-04:002013-05-12T14:19:40.171-04:00Oh, "Anonymous" - is there ever a novel ...Oh, "Anonymous" - is there ever a novel in there... a passive aggressive narrator would be just the thing.Hallie Ephronhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04759439029582054503noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-21214022554278977212013-05-12T13:18:52.584-04:002013-05-12T13:18:52.584-04:00I once had an editor tell me that my characters we...I once had an editor tell me that my characters were "too nice." That is what comes, I suppose, from a family where generations obeyed all the "rules," whether written or unwritten, and were perfectly proper (no cheating, no drinking, keeping immaculate houses with very little or no household help-- lots of OCD). They took out their frustrations in passive aggression, but you had to be a lot older to learn that's what it was. <br /><br />My mother wanted nothing but to be a writer, and was happiest when she got a job as secretary to an immigrant factory owner and wrote all his correspondence for him. In her old age, once I showed her how it was done, she sold a number of articles to a number of publications. After she descended into dementia, she told everyone that she had written a column for the local paper-- probably because it was what she'd always wanted to do while she was keeping an immaculate house and obeying all the rules. <br /><br />She raised a family of writers, not just her kids, but her grandchildren as well. But until after she died, we were all-- at least on the surface-- pretty normal. Then the passive aggression turned active, but still, nobody drinks, nobody cheats-- we all still obey all the rules. We're just not all so "nice" anymore-- maybe that'll come out in characters someday. If I live long enough. Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-16352472777921114532013-05-12T13:04:16.851-04:002013-05-12T13:04:16.851-04:00Leigh - you know, our motto on Jungle Red should b...Leigh - you know, our motto on Jungle Red should be yours: Writing well is the best revenge.Hallie Ephronhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04759439029582054503noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-45066176907511685552013-05-12T13:03:28.476-04:002013-05-12T13:03:28.476-04:00Debs - sounds like life with your mother was full ...Debs - sounds like life with your mother was full of adventures! And why is it that we only think to ask those important questions when it's too late to get the answers?Hallie Ephronhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04759439029582054503noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-56122225892713963032013-05-12T13:02:10.998-04:002013-05-12T13:02:10.998-04:00Peggy - This line in your comment seems so compell...Peggy - This line in your comment seems so compelling: <br />So when I was left with a ten month old baby to raise when my husband finished his PhD and left, my mom pointed out that in our family women raising children on their own was no bit deal. It was almost a family tradition. <br /><br />I do think there are mothers who pick you up, hug you, and kiss the booboo... and the ones that tell you to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and get on with it. I'm a hugger and a picker-upper. My mother, like yours, was not.<br />Hallie Ephronhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04759439029582054503noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-31661571109835585342013-05-12T12:03:37.262-04:002013-05-12T12:03:37.262-04:00Thanks for the wonderful post. My mother is a comp...Thanks for the wonderful post. My mother is a complicated person who loves obsessively, criticizes with abandon, and still enables my drunken 50-year-old brother by letting him live with her and take half her social security income so he won't have to work. What I do for her now comes from my Southern sense of obligation. I'm writing a short story where thing turn out like I often fantasize they do.Leigh Neelyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13108263236351881868noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1001156153899984046.post-4581818272659102872013-05-12T11:38:04.453-04:002013-05-12T11:38:04.453-04:00Hallie, just beautiful.
And Reine, if you fleshed...Hallie, just beautiful.<br /><br />And Reine, if you fleshed that out a bit more, you would have a great short story. I want to know more about all those people, and what an ending. Literally and figuratively.<br /><br />We are all so complicated, not least our mothers. Mine was certainly not the typical housewife of the fifties and sixties. She worked with my father, she traveled with him over a good part of the world, was always ready to try new things--when we went to Europe we ate in working-class restaurants where most of the time we had no idea what we were eating...She didn't invite neighbors to lunch, but she made friends in unexpected places. <br /><br />For many years she was determined to learn to speak Spanish (my parents spent much time in Mexico and had a house there for a decade) although her accent never improved.<br /><br />So many good things, and yet she was also very controlling--supportive unless it was something SHE didn't want me to do.<br /><br />She grew up during the Depression and never talked about it, but the scars were always there. When she went through a period of severe psychotic dementia a few years ago, I couldn't begin to imagine where those demons had come from.<br /><br />I thought I knew her well and now wish I had known her better. All the things I would ask that she can't now answer, although she still smiles at the sound of my voice.Debhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11519514786198185277noreply@blogger.com