Annie B's eddy: August 2018

Thursday, August 23, 2018

The Gift by Lucy Kaplansky for My Mom on what would have been her 77th Birthday!

Bunny hopping in Rice paddies with Dich (otomy)
what i woulda said if I hadda known then what I know now.
IOW...Rice Bunny!
IF I had been brave enough to stand up at my Mom's
funeral a little over 6 years ago....
"My Mom was a story teller"...insert
imaginary huge peals of laughter from the folks gathered to pay their respects
That may have (en)lightened the mood in Holy Family Catholic Church
in Franklinton (so-called original Columbus).
By this I mean: folks had been living there for eons before Lucas Sullivant staked his claim...but I am glad he did.
And that standing up here I am able to discern: who of you have a heart open to who I AM and who of you , do not.
This knowing is an innate ability given to me by "All-That -Is", the Great Spirit. Because I have a gift. Not unlike my Mother's gift: One that has highly emotionally intelligent folks like us that can both see and feel directly into what is the heart of any matter,know-ing
what might be going wrong and/or right (there's that aforementioned dichotomy)
with those closest to us, AND Know , really know....when something might present an opportunity for us to spin your story in an eddy like current of a thread, into ours.
But I digress. See thats what I/we tangential orators/writers do. And what she did. And why it was so hard, for me, her also-storyteller daughter, to get a word in edgewise.
I stand before you now ( as Father Schweitzer so eloquently said),as half her and half him (looking at my Dad).
I grew up in your parishes, played sports for your teams. Y'all saw me grow up. A strong, laughing, running, creating, playing, divine androgyne that got in trouble alot...for talking, playing "keep-away"and "smear the queer" (gasping from some pews) with the boys, tearing down the curtains, drawing outside of the lines. But this is not about nearly bald* me. There's a really good explanation for that. See me in the parking lot and I'll tell you the story...pews laugh again.
insert pic of her and us
It is about my beautiful Mom. Who should have gone gone to college. Who was a SURVIVOR!!!!!!
Who survived domestic abuse on more than one front. Who would have stood up now (back here in 2018)and said: "Yea, me too"...@# insert more than one of her male /supervisor/employers in Columbus, Ohio.
My Mom, who wanted to write a book about her visionary experiences spending time with The Two Virgins (Mary and Guadalupe), as One.
Who BACK IN (around) 1968 was fiercely proud when my name was picked out of a hat to be the one to
"Crown the Blessed Virgin Mary". Who made sure my attire that day was perfect and that there were flowers in my hair.
insert pic of that and Father Pete
JOAN MARLENE FINNERAN, who grew up on Avondale sharing a Murphy-bed with her 4 siblings . Walking with her siblings everyday to this church, this school. Working, as soon as she was able herself,several places to make money to help her working Mother and dis-abled Father.
The same siblings she (really did practically) raise.
My Mom, a PROUD Irish Lassie (and the kaleidoscope of amazing diversity/DNA that comes from merely be-ing Irish).
Siobian, who always wanted a "Mike and Pat", got them both and dressed them like twins, but slightly different, as they were. Who always made sure ALL 5 of us (My DAD included) were dressed to the nines.
Joanie, who always had just "one more thing", to say, to show you, to love.
Who during her "freedom years" learned to sail, canoe,fly,travel, speak her truth(s), ride ferries with her closest friends to her beloved Lake Erie "Islands" and so very much more than all of us combined will ever know.
Through this freedom my Mother was even brave enough to have Belly-danced her way through a performance at one of the early Columbus Arts Festivals back in a time when it was taboo in many of her circles, to do so.
insert picnic table pic
My Mommy, who read to us, sang to us, taught us to appreciate nap-time, our entire names yelled out in summertime Holly Hills for everyone to hear (more audience laughter)....
My Mom, who documented everything in her own way, with her own camera, and her own typewriter, her own tape recorder (listen to tape), her own voice,her own story.
insert pic of mom mickey grandma
My Mom, your Mom (nodding to my remaining brother),your sister, aunt, co-worker was not only a Mother,Grandmother ,dedicated Daughter and a wife but a talented and brilliant writer, artist,
mystic/visionary , gardener,birder,skater,spelling bee champion,cook,budget coordinator,nurse,housewife,organizer,party planner,interior decorator,seer, cb-operator ("green- eyes" her handle),driver (who could b4 it was all known as a distraction) multi-task all the way up 71 to to the Cook Rd exit every morning having taken out her curlers, done her hair and sometimes make-up with her right hand and steering with her left) on her way to the aforementioned, Fountain Square.. I kid you not."... TBC per usual.
August 23rd, 2018 would have been her 77th Birthday.
It would take another 77 years to finish telling even parts of my Mom's entire "story".
And not unlike my eddy and her facebook page (she never really saw either) and her deep faith, her story continues, endlessly careening in and out of the chasms of our hearts,spilling out into our gardens, our rivers, our cells.
I think that if she were still alive today and had seen with me (on tv) a young Black male Dancer who appeared on the Ellen DeGeneres show a short time ago, she too would have laughed hard at what he said:
"I am writing a Book About My Life"..(and) "It's called Never- mind". Or maybe not.
Happy Birthday Mom.