Retrieve Lament: from me, the mother

Pietà - Anto Carte
source

I can't imagine being your mother

-- or maybe I can.

The day she cradled your dead body, 

how much of her suffering was about you? 

How much was about her?

I've given life to four people

All still alive (thanks be to God),

but I grieve anyway.

For a mother, grief

comes easy. 

As does the following:

Anguish

Fury

Irritation

Contempt

Remorse

Humiliation

Also:

Liability

Occasionally:

Love

Sometimes love feels fierce as hate-

mingling down in howling tears. 

It's hard to tell the difference

Am I crying for my kid?

Am I crying for myself?

Which makes me wonder

What your mother felt the day she cradled 

your dead body?

One time (or maybe a million)

I cried all night because I couldn't

remember if I'd ever done anything right

for my kid. I thought 

the homemade play-dough was a good idea, and 

the library trips.  Maybe that wasn't

enough?

One time (just the other day)

I cried all night

because I was so damn mad

at my kid. The one I love more

than life itself. The one

-- given enough Pinot --

I could just as easily slap

upside the head.

Four times I writhed and moaned

and screamed and hollered

and bled and cussed

until - hallelujah -

it was finished.

Four times I cooed and cried

and prophesied, shouting

over the tiny screaming face:

This is my kid -

do whatever he tells you to do.

Four seconds of transcendance - 

even while my body turned inside

out, split in two, stretched 

beyond recognition.

Four perfect seconds of euphoria - 

after that, things begin to fall apart.

Did your mother think, I would 

die for you? 

Did she think, 

You wear me out. Or, 

this is all your father's fault.

I only ask because I've thought all 

those things.  If it's ok

for the mother of God,

maybe I'm not so bad.

Maybe there's hope for us yet.

Why we give new names to our kids on their 21st birthdays (also, Happy 22nd Birthday, Alexander!)

photo credit: Grant & Deb Photographers

Shortly before our oldest son turned 21, we considered a way to celebrate the rite of passage this particular age represents in our culture. We considered all the ways that we, his parents, had grown and changed within his lifetime. (Since we were basically children ourselves when he was born, there was a significant amount of learning to be done!)

One especially important realization was that we'd wished we had an opportunity to name our children in the custom of those in the Roman Catholic church, upon a child's confirmation. The years had helped us recognize how much we relied on our relationship with the Church across space and time to help us parent -- the community we worship with each week and the legacy of the Christians who have come before us. 

We wanted very much to hand our children that truth in the sort of way that it would become attached to them forever and ever, amen. 

With Andrew, we chose the name Patrick - making him Andrew Brian Patrick Murphy. We hoped to reflect the Irish heritage on both sides of our family, as well as affirm the deeply-formed qualities of humility, courage, mercy and integrity embodied in both the saint and in our son during our 21 years of knowing him. (We couldn't have known that we'd also given him great material for future stand-up jokes in which he likens his name to four Irish guys getting thrown out of a pub. Well, we do what we can.)

Alex with his great-grandfather and namesake Lester Morgan

Last year, our second son, Alex, turned 21. We'd spent the previous year considering the perfect name to gift him. We invited input from others who knew and loved him. When we finally decided, we recognized that the totality of his name was rather weighty, and yet barely sufficient for what we wanted to affirm: a love and aptitude for music, theology, justice and the Church.

We chose the name Gregory, making Alex's new official name :  Alexander Morgan Gregory Murphy 


There are many saints named Gregory, and we're pointing Alex toward the life of Pope Saint Gregory I. I've included some of his biography in the next section, but want to share a story, first, of another saint who inspires this name. 

May Stage Gregory

Seymour and May Gregory were a childless couple who lived in a poor, rural area in New York's upstate farmland. Seymour drove a milk truck and May cared for their small farm. My great-grandfather (Alex's great-great) met them as a travelling tax collector. Somehow -- we're not really sure how the decision was made -- my great-grandfather asked this kind couple if they would allow his daughter -- my grandmother -- to live with them.

The backstory to this request is that my great-grandmother died of scarlet fever by the time my grandmother was two years old. My grandmother lived with her widowed father and older sister, Helen, for a few of her childhood years until my great-grandfather remarried. Unfortunately, his new wife fit the role of the unloving step-mother stereotype and (we assume) forced her husband to make a decision between her and his two daughters.

And, so it was that Seymour and May Gregory became my grandmother's new guardians. (Tragically, Seymour died shortly after this time when his milk truck was hit by a train.)  May Gregory and my grandmother lived a hardscrabble life keeping the farm and a whole assortment of odd jobs in order to make a living. 

I'll never forget my grandmother's 80th birthday when her daughters (my mother, Alex's grandmother) asked Grandma to tell us the story again. We waited for her to show even the tiniest bit of sadness or anger. As an adult now, I realize that there must have been both sadness and anger, but I also believe my Grandma when she told us this story was actually happy because it was Grandma Gregory who introduced her to Jesus. In that care for an unwanted child and in that sacrificial love, the Gregorys changed the entire course of our family history.

Grandma Gregory lived a long, dear life. She continued always to provide nurture and support to my grandmother and my mother -- especially after my grandfather (my mother's father) died young leaving my grandmother alone to raise 5 girls all by herself in yet another poor, rural town in upstate New York.

For much of my growing-up years, I did not understand the weight of glory held in this family story. It had become too familiar to me. I want to change that for my children. Gregory is a name we never want to forget.

-----------

Pope Saint Gregory I: You can read the Wikipedia summary here (I'm also paraphrasing from other sources).

Saint Gregory came from a wealthy family, but as a young man sold his estates and founded seven monasteries. A few years later, Pope Benedict I ordained Gregory a deacon of Rome, and sent him to Constantinople as ambassador. (A footnote: Alex has developed a love for Turkey after studying there last spring).

Gregory was reluctant to take the office of Pope, but became so influential he became one of only 2 popes known as "the Great". He is also one of the "Four Latin Doctors" of the Church -- sending his friend and fellow monk, Augustine, on mission to the British Isles, directly influencing the birth of Western Christianity on a continent full of warring nations and pagan religions.

Gregory the Great is considered a saint in the Catholic Church, Eastern Orthodox Church, Anglican Communion, and some Lutheran churches.The Protestant reformer John Calvin admired Gregory and declared in his Institutes that Gregory was the "last good pope". Throughout the Middle Ages he was known as “the Father of Christian Worship” because of his exceptional efforts in revising the Roman worship of his day, including the form of plainsong which simplified and codified music, now known as "Gregorian chant". This music-loving pope influenced Western worship. He is the patron saint of musicians, singers, students, and teachers.

For all of these reasons (and no belief that Grandma Gregory, Pope Gregory or Alexander Morgan Gregory are without brokenness and flaws), we've chosen to give the name Gregory to our son Alex on his 21st birthday.

November 30, 2014: Sharing drinks and new names upon Alex's 21st birthday

Collect for Feast of Saint Gregory:

Almighty and merciful God, you raised up Gregory of Rome to be a servant of the servants of God, and inspired him to send missionaries to preach the Gospel to the English people: Preserve in your Church the catholic and apostolic faith they taught, that your people, being fruitful in every good work, may receive the crown of glory that never fades away; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Some related links: 

Saint Gregory the Pope:

The Feast of Gregory the Great:

"Hovhaness: Prayer Of St. Gregory For Trumpet & Organ, Op.62b (Reduction By The Composer)*" by Wynton Marsalis

Gregorian chant at Encyclopedia Britannica 

Gregorian chant on Pandora 

As is my nature, I felt the need to mark the occasion his 22nd birthday with a photo slideshow of Alex through the years.  For the soundtrack I chose a song that I believe Alex himself sings better than any of the recordings I could find.  Jason Mraz and Willie Nelson and Kermit the Frog are all OK, but Alex and his banjo really do it best.  This will have to do, I guess.

Alex turns 22 by Slidely Slideshow

a few reasonable words from the internet this week

Happy weekend, all! We're headed into a fun weekend of wedding preparation festivities.  What are your plans?  

Here's some food for thought for the conversations you have this weekend over brunch, at the soccer field or on a little roadtrip (to the pumpkin patch?). And if you and I happen to bump into each other in the next couple of days, I'd love to hear what you think after these reads! (or, you could always leave me a comment below!)

• from the archives:  This weekend my grandparents celebrate their 69th wedding anniversary!  Here's a cute video of me interviewing them a couple years back (when they were still 67-year newlyweds), asking about falling in love all those years ago. 

• Speaking of conversation, I found this NY Times op-ed Stop Googling. Let's Talk. a reasonable (vs. luddite-idealized) critique of our tendency to allow technology to interrupt, even replace IRL connection.  In short:  we need significant amounts of time with no device in sight. 

• My friend Phaedra shared this post of 4 rituals that neuroscience recommends for happiness.  The thing is, a lot of it is common sense, Biblical even, but the human tendency to compartmentalize our physical, spiritual, and emotional selves makes us forget common sense, don't you think?  via Barking Up the Wrong Tree

• Becoming, new music from Giants & Pilgrims.  Husband musician + wife painter = gorgeous art.  Listening on repeat this weekend.

• Anyone else get the sinking feeling that David Brooks' description of the ungovernable GOP sounds a teensy bit like some of the churches you've attended?  It makes me wonder if there's a chicken & egg principle at work. via NY Times

• Oh my, this satirical conversation between parent and tot cracked me up. I'm not sure which scenario resonated more with my memories, the missing socks or the wanting of the things. Also if you've actually ever uttered the words post hoc ergo propter hoc in an argument with your preschooler, then you win at parenting.  via Slate

If you're looking for a Netflix suggestion for the weekend: we watched the documentary Glen Campbell: I'll Be Me this week, and recommend it. A sweet, sad insight into life with Alzheimer's  along with music from an outstanding musician. (disclaimer:  be prepared to have this song stuck in your head for the rest of the week).

{pretty, happy, funny, real} - back to school photo diary

| a weekly capturing the contentment in everyday life |

Overall, this has been a lovely week of settling back into September rhythms.  You'd think after all these years, I'd remember that it always takes 2-3 weeks for the new schedule of Autumn to kick in before we feel fully transitioned.  If I'm remembering correctly, this should keep us until November-ish.  I'll probably forget, though.

Speaking of forgetting, I realize I've not yet posted the annual back to school photo diary.  What better post than the weekly {pretty, happy, funny, real} montage? 

Before the photos, I feel obligated to include the book excerpt that I've shared just about year since beginning this blog (here's the first time back in 2007!).

"'I guess I'm just feeling Septemberish', sighed Chester. 'It's getting towards Autumn now. And it's so pretty up in Connecticut. All the trees change color. The days get very clear - with a little smoke on the horizon from burning leaves. Pumpkins begin to come out.' "

(The Cricket in Times Square)

| pretty |

A good photographer and good camp friend of Natalie's offered to take a senior photo shoot before Nat left her favorite place on earth to come back home to Austin. Here's just a sneak preview (aren't they lovely?!?)

Natalie came home from camp with this hip haircut and her sister decided to go twinsies before she went back to school.

Caught this shot of Kendra one of her last mornings home. Beautiful to see and to hear!

Natalie's first day of senior year!  As I said on IG, "Every year, for 18 years, we've been staging this scene. Here's to our last time forcing the kids to take these photos. Here's to Natalie's senior year."

| happy |

I had to keep an eye on Facebook for photos of Alex during his first week back, senior year at Rice.  He doesn't have a FB account, but, thankfully his residential college (Baker!) keeps all the parents updated with hundreds of photos for O(rientation)-Week.  Alex was in about fifty of them, totally living large -- which is his way.  While I'm on the subject of Rice, I guarantee you no school does Freshmen welcomes better (see above, and that's PARENTS of a Freshmen).   

Saying good-bye to Kendra for her sophomore year, and helping move her into her apartment

Happy 24th birthday to this great guy, our son Andrew.  We celebrated with a mini, food-crawl of tacos and ice cream.  Good company, too! 

| funny |

My daughters and I celebrated the back-to-school season with a spa week.  First stop: pedicures.  Can you guess which pair of feet worked as a lifeguard all summer??

Our last year to serve up the infamous pumpkin-chip cookies on the first day of school (recipe). You can see that Natalie does just fine being the only one of  our kids left home.  I lost count of the number of kids who showed up for cookies and milk, but I think it was about 2 dozen kids.  At least Natalie gave me the text warning ahead.

We also attended our last last "Back to School" night for parents (thanks be to God).  You can see that Brian is a bit skeptical of the Macro Economics presentation. 

| real|

What a privilege to help Kendra move into her new apartment and to meet her roommates.  What a beautiful group of women!  Kendra asked Brian to pray through the Anglican house blessing over the apartment.  We didn't know how her new roomies would feel about standing in each room, reading Scripture and prayers aloud.  We didn't need to worry.  They engaged wholeheartedly, and we left knowing that their home for this school year will be a place of peace and rest and fun for all who enter there.

Have you captured any contentment this week? 

 I'd love to hear about it!

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{pretty, funny, happy, real} - visiting Kendra!

| a weekly capturing the contentment in everyday life |

| pretty |

I got to spend the weekend with my girl at the University of North Texas.  Her sorority held a Mother's Day tea.  The best part was meeting so many delightful young women who have become her dear friends this year.  (and their mamas!)

I am unbelievably proud of the courage and fortitude and fierce tenderness this girl carries into the world each day of her life.  I think it's OK to say now that I was feeling a bit concerned about her first year in school -- that she would struggle finding "home" in a new place.  Within the first week (maybe even the first day!) she'd already plowed down that fear with her relational tenacity.  Thanks be to God.

| happy |

Spring in Texas keeps me here.  I was delighted to discover large sections of charming Spring-green landscapes on the route between our house and Denton.  This, in spite of the fact that the trip is basically one long interstate with Dallas and Fort Worth in the middle.  Oh, how I love a good road trip. 

I was a bit limited in my ability to snap roadside photos, but trust me when I tell you that Ladybird Johnson's legacy lives on just beautifully along the Texas highways.

| funny |

The plan was for me to stay on Sunday long enough for Kendra and I to get a phone call from Alex with some Very Important News.  I have yet to figure out how a mother of adults makes her children do things The Right Way According to Mama. (and if YOU are a mother and find yourself judging me, I only say "Stop it right now. Your day is coming.")  I've decided Guilt Trips and Manipulation will become my best options.  So Kendra and I staged this photo to "innocently" text Alex as a subtle reminder that his time to do things My Way was running out.  Appropriately, he did not respond to this magnificent display of impatience at all.  Smart boy.  Wonder who raised him?

| real |

How do I describe the privilege of parenting adults who are savvy enough to include a stop for Kombucha-on-tap with a side of pour-over coffee?  

How also can I describe the exquisite pain/pleasure of the kind of conversations in which both parties get to say how they really feel and also get to give and receive forgiveness?  Forgiveness for 5 minutes ago, 5 weeks ago, 5 years ago.  It is both very real pain and very real pleasure.  

May I take this moment to share a witness (as they said in the old days)?  

Parents, we need Jesus always and forever, amen.  Your kids need Him, too, but you go first.  The path that leads to you and ends with you is a broken, insufficient path that will not even come close to meeting your children's very real needs and desires.  On your best day, you'll be able to give them a couple of good things they'll remember more than the bad.  If you, instead, lead them on the path that ends at Jesus, they will know where to find everything they really need and desire.  I'm beginning to understand that parenting adults means that instead of only leading on that path, I now get to walk beside my children as we run head-long together into His arms. 

This is real. And I'm beginning to see that it is very good.

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