Florence Paisey
I will start... Recently some old, childhood friends (all of whom grew into strong individuals that contribute well to our country and civil, tolerant, cross-cultural understanding) have shared memories of my mom, my dad, their parents, and our "village" in Miami -- when Miami was small, yet recognized for the glamorous entertainment and panache with which it was associated. Of course, the glamorous dimension had little to do with us and building the values based, (internal or tradition directed), foundation we learned, grew on, and internalized. The fact that each of us who grew up in this pocket of Miami remain in touch over lifetimes illustrates the caring and the options our parents appreciated and we learned to appreciate.
Once upon a time...
there were no cell phones...
there were great public schools...
there were parents who ensured their children and others children returned from school safe...
parents furnished tutoring pre-school in the humanities and the kids learned to appreciate music and dance and literature and performance and...even some (those who liked both humanities and science) became distinguished mathematicians...when not surfing on the beaches....
my mom was almost an invisible presence...silent...aware...observant...yet warm;...my dad was the vanguard...that mom's silent strength energized...
I remember one birthday -- and I've got the photos to animate the scene -- I was about seven and my mom planned a neighborhood birthday party for me. There were to be about 25 kids....
What is one of most "inconvenient" things that could happen at a kid's birthday with 25 other kids invited and expected to arrive in 24 hours?....
Mom came down with laryngitis...I still remember her frenzied worry...and, no doubt, every conceivable problem that 25 six to seven year olds could get into without vocal supervision....
The show must go on...
Did mom call off the party? -- not a chance. Did parents pitch in -- you bet....
All the parents showed up, observed us, behind the scene...ready to intercede...and quiet with a firm, but careful VOICE...
The party went on...nothing was cancelled; parent's from nearby showed up and supervised....
Had parents not helped out; had the party been cancelled, we secure, safe kids would have felt a diminished safety and diminished trust in others and the world we were learning about....
We are each stronger for all parents stepping up when my mom's voice vaporized...
And, we are all glad that the show went on -- and all had a blast and not one kid ever knew that mom couldn't have shouted at him or her...every parent stepped up to see the show go on and each kid enjoy a simple birthday party, full of joy and free from perils....
We are each stronger for this...we did not grow up unaware; we did grow up...with my mom and all the moms and dads...to know joy and appreciate the safety and promises our families kept faith with.
Thanks for my mom ... to all the parents who showed up to help ... from all sides of the house....
Were this an isolated incident, perhaps, it wouldn't mean so much. But, this represented the sort of cohesion and resilience we took for granted in childhood and then as adults learned to appreciate how lucky we were...
Mom didn't need her voice...all neighbors sorted out the glitch and all stepped up...
This is not a mom story; but, I know that mom always remembered this. This is a village story and all parents looking out for each others kids....