Plenty of pearls of wisdom in this piece. I felt it to my core. I think we do hang onto those childhood hurts if the pain runs too deep. I often recall things my mother, or even my ex-husband said to me and they still bring me shame or pain or both. Thank you for continuing to be so raw and honest.
I’ve managed to let go of most of the things Mom said that cut, unintentionally, which was worse. She didn’t even think she was saying something bad. The scar tissue is still there. “ You were never burdened with being the pretty one.” Thanks mom!
I love hearing your voice today. What a brilliant offering to all of us with complicated families and histories and political leaders. Thanks for your human voice, always (And we do have each other). Hugs.
Great piece as always, Jodi. And completely agree with you on the urgency of being part of, and helping build, communities. It's your manifesto and I'm signing under it!
I love this entry. I knew you were my longlost sister/cousin. Change a few details and it's the same family and the same dress to the afternoon wedding, except mine was purple with glitter. At an upper east synagogue with a 3 piece chamber group when the bride walked down the aisle. My father swept floors in burlesque houses to put himself through law school, although his career was derailed by McCarthyism and depression. Enough about me. It's a wonderful piece.
My dad worked burlesque houses and carnival side shows. My mother blamed all my bad choices on his stories. Funny how we’ve circled each other for years w mutual friends/acquaintances and never really spoken. Thanks for reading. 💗.
Thank you for your emails from Substack and for sharing your journey. I thought I'd share with you that I recently published my second poetry collection, The Tug of the Hound, and I donate all proceeds from sales of the book to The Alzheimer's Association. The book is available from bookstores and online (e.g., https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FR3H5VL2).
If you have the opportunity to share its availability -- or to share a poem from it, I'd appreciate it.
I feel like we are witnessing the path of your healing in real time. Glad you realize you are a pearl. Diamonds only become diamonds after being crushed with extreme pressure and heat. You're a diamond too.
Wow, Stan's is one long-held grudge. Amazing that he still brought it up.
I agree with you, Jodi, best to let the past be the past. I coaxed my aunt into seeing my mother after many years avoiding her, and was glad that they were on better terms by the time they died. Life really is too short.
I know really nothing about her. I just finished scanning in my grandmother‘s photo album, and looking at pictures of her when she was young she was not the person that I think of is my grandma. I wish I had had the foresight to ask the questions I have now when they were still alive, my grandmother and my father.
This is such a beautiful post, Jodi. Caregivers is so hard, but you show us the beauty of it, too.
Thanks Sue. Mutual admiration society here.
I meant caregiving.
You rock, love. 🌻🌻🌻
I roll too, more and more lately. 💕
😂
Plenty of pearls of wisdom in this piece. I felt it to my core. I think we do hang onto those childhood hurts if the pain runs too deep. I often recall things my mother, or even my ex-husband said to me and they still bring me shame or pain or both. Thank you for continuing to be so raw and honest.
I’ve managed to let go of most of the things Mom said that cut, unintentionally, which was worse. She didn’t even think she was saying something bad. The scar tissue is still there. “ You were never burdened with being the pretty one.” Thanks mom!
Beauty is on the inside...you're beautiful
Your gritty and truthy voice is what we need right now. Thanks for keeping it real AF.
I love hearing your voice today. What a brilliant offering to all of us with complicated families and histories and political leaders. Thanks for your human voice, always (And we do have each other). Hugs.
I love the oyster/pearl analogy--so true.
Pointed and poignant. The truths you reveal and the quiet strength you share through your writing is inspiring. Thank you.
Great piece as always, Jodi. And completely agree with you on the urgency of being part of, and helping build, communities. It's your manifesto and I'm signing under it!
Manifesto! I feel like Valare Solanos, minus the gun💕
I love this entry. I knew you were my longlost sister/cousin. Change a few details and it's the same family and the same dress to the afternoon wedding, except mine was purple with glitter. At an upper east synagogue with a 3 piece chamber group when the bride walked down the aisle. My father swept floors in burlesque houses to put himself through law school, although his career was derailed by McCarthyism and depression. Enough about me. It's a wonderful piece.
My dad worked burlesque houses and carnival side shows. My mother blamed all my bad choices on his stories. Funny how we’ve circled each other for years w mutual friends/acquaintances and never really spoken. Thanks for reading. 💗.
Thank you for your emails from Substack and for sharing your journey. I thought I'd share with you that I recently published my second poetry collection, The Tug of the Hound, and I donate all proceeds from sales of the book to The Alzheimer's Association. The book is available from bookstores and online (e.g., https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FR3H5VL2).
If you have the opportunity to share its availability -- or to share a poem from it, I'd appreciate it.
My first volume, Conspicuous Joy (https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FVT6VGX6), was a collection of my notes to my wife, who has Alzheimer's.
I feel like we are witnessing the path of your healing in real time. Glad you realize you are a pearl. Diamonds only become diamonds after being crushed with extreme pressure and heat. You're a diamond too.
Wow, Stan's is one long-held grudge. Amazing that he still brought it up.
I agree with you, Jodi, best to let the past be the past. I coaxed my aunt into seeing my mother after many years avoiding her, and was glad that they were on better terms by the time they died. Life really is too short.
What a beautiful - poignant – photo of Lily.
I know really nothing about her. I just finished scanning in my grandmother‘s photo album, and looking at pictures of her when she was young she was not the person that I think of is my grandma. I wish I had had the foresight to ask the questions I have now when they were still alive, my grandmother and my father.