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John Carney |
A Message for James IV
A 14-year old young man received the best Mother’s Day gift
anyone could imagine this week. In the precious entanglements of family, this
bright and budding gentleman heard his father pay tribute to a visionary woman,
the boy’s grandmother, in a deeply touching display of affection before a
crowded room. And how did that happen? All because the boy’s mother read a book
about another son who shared stories with his mother in the final days of her
life. Those conversations became the substance of a book, and the web of
mothers’ love for their sons and sons for mothers took over.
The End of Your Life
Book Club
Let me explain. On Tuesday, May 3, the Center for Practical
Bioethics held its annual dinner. Will
Schwalbe, an author and editor, was invited to speak about his book, The End of Your Life Book Club. That’s
the story about the son who shared intimate reflections with his mom during the
final months of her life, inspired by the books they read together. They were
both book lovers and their conversations about the meaning of those books
deepened their love for each other and his depth of appreciation of her life.
As they explored life in discussing the books, Will’s understanding of his mom’s
courage and conviction about all sorts of things grew, expanding his
appreciation for the causes she held dear and the virtues that guided her
life.
But the Mother’s Day gift that I’m focusing on is not the one
Will exchanged with his mom in live conversation, but the one he gave all of us
in writing the book. Here’s why. At that
same event, a young mother was seated near her son. He was attending only
because his mother had read Will’s book. While reading it, she became convinced
that her child needed to accompany her and her husband to the event because his
father was going to be paying tribute to his grandmother during the evening.
The mother of this young lad, in the reading of Will’s book, knew the
importance of conversations that discussions about virtuous things and tributes
can generate. And even if they don’t foment lots of talk from shy but handsome
young men with braces, they can certainly imbue lasting memories for them.
You Listen!
When a tall, middle-aged man who happens to be your dad stands
on a dais in front of 600 people saying tender things about his mother, midst
tears and halting reflections interspersed with thoughtful composure mustering
pauses, you listen! As a young man, you listen so you can ingest, long after the
Andre’s chocolates dessert, the meaning of conviction, the importance of
virtue, the purpose of family and the beliefs that drive hard work, unselfish
philanthropy, thrift and generosity of spirit. You listen to your dad because
your mom says it’s important, and you know that hearing him talk in front of a
mass of people about his mom is important stuff, and because he is really
talking to you as if there were no one else in the room. It’s that important.
I doubt seriously that Will Schwalbe ever imagined that his
book about writings and conversations with his mother would create such a
luscious web of Mother’s Day entanglement, but I’m glad it did. And I would
venture to guess that his deceased mother’s spirit revels in it. Being part of
it on Tuesday night gave tender affirmation to the work the Center -- our work
in promoting intimate conversations about love and life and dying and saying
“goodbye” and “I love you” and “remember this.”
Tell Them You Love Them
So this Mother’s Day, James, IV, tell your mother you love her
and tell her thank you. And remember what your dad said about his mother and
what courage and character it took to say it; not in front of 600 people, but
in front of you. And tell him that you are proud of him. That’s another important
lesson from Will’s book. Telling someone you are proud of him is as important
as telling that person you love him
I’ll be doing the same to my mom. I may get choked up, but hey,
I saw a guy do that on Tuesday and he lived to tell about. Remember this...no
matter how tongue tied you get, your mom will still love you, and she’s just as
likely to tell you that she’s proud of you too.
Thank you, Will, and thank you, Mary Anne, for the book. Thank
you, Michele, for sharing it with your family in a way that its reach spreads
the luscious web of Mother’s Day gifts to all of us. And thank you, James IV
and Virginia, for the reminder that people who are often larger than life are
still sons and mothers in the intricate and intimate expressions of family life.
Labels: mothers day, The End of Your Life Book Club, Will Schwalbe