There’s a line from a poem by Stanley Plumly that I’ve always loved: “Your whole life you are two, with one taken away.”
At first, I thought it was about romantic love, but the longer I pondered it, the more I was certain it was about motherhood, the experience of being “two” for nine months, then having the baby outside of you and living in the world. Even if the line isn’t about that, I think it describes the gorgeous and often heartbreaking intensity of motherhood, the simultaneous feeling of connection and separation.
I loved the line so much I used it as the epigraph for my first novel, “The Perfect Age,” the story of a mother and her teenage daughter set in Las Vegas, where I grew up. Apparently, motherhood is an important theme for me, something I don’t think I understood until after I’d written that novel and realized that the mother-daughter relationship is the heart of the book, the hot sun around which all the other characters revolve.
Sometimes when you’re working on a novel or essay or story, you can’t see what you’re really writing about until you’ve reached the end. That’s what’s happening right now with me and this column. I want to say something important about motherhood, in honor of Mother’s Day tomorrow, but I’m not sure, yet, exactly where I’m headed.
Not everyone is fortunate enough to have a good mother, or even a mother who is alive or present. I think the term “good mother” might be controversial, but we all basically know what it means. A good mother is there for you; she loves you unconditionally; she cares for you and praises you and works hard to teach you how to be a good human being.
A good mother can yell and get angry and make mistakes, but her heart is essentially in the right place: she wants the best for her children. There are numerous variations on the good mother, and if you were raised by someone who fits the bill, you should consider yourself lucky.
A new study by the National Academy of Sciences shows that a mother’s love and nurturing can directly affect the size of the child’s brain – the hippocampus, to be exact. Having a smaller hippocampus can increase the risk for all sorts of mental disorders, from depression to Alzheimer’s. This essential part of the brain also plays a role in how we handle the stressors in our lives. So while we no longer believe mothers can “cause” schizophrenia or autism – as we did in the early days of psychiatry – their devoted nurturing can help ensure a healthier mental life in general.
This doesn’t mean that people with poorly behaved mothers, or mothers who weren’t present, are doomed. Other people in our lives can provide nurturing and love when we need it the most. In fact, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the word “mother” as a verb: “To care for or protect.”
I’ve been fortunate to have a mother who exemplifies that verb, and I think her example has led me to mother others in my life: my kids, of course, but also friends. It’s not really a conscious decision, but rather an instinct to follow my mom’s lead, to listen and care and advise and love.
When I spend time with my mom now, my impulse is to mother her as well. Is she comfortable? Happy? Does she need anything? Can I drive? Buy her coffee?
But she still fills the role of mother so thoroughly that I’m not needed in that way. And I realized on a recent trip with her and my sister, that being kindly mothered is not only a treat, but a release, an opportunity to refresh myself for all the other people in my life whom I hold dear.
Also, I can only imagine all her kindness has given me a HUGE hippocampus, so thanks, Mom, and happy Mother’s Day!
Contact the writer: @heatherskyler, hskyler@ocregister.com heatherskyler.com
