Gay Men and Our Mothers

Here is an article I saw by accident! today which is so consoling because my mother recently passed away. Ken describes how he reconciled with his dying mother who was disappointed that he was gay. He is a former Jesuit and lives in San Francisco. He is a Zen expert and I think that I will try his methods of meditation.

http://truthspinners.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Gay Men and Our Mothers


There are moments in life that require a few words, and this is one of them. ..

When I was describing mother to a friend, he just said, "That woman was a force of nature." He totally got that she was a very, very strong woman and a central figure in my life. That force of her character was, thankfully, balanced with enormous amounts humor and grace, good taste, refinement and a very sharp mind. But if any one of you ever really believe that she liked it when she lost the rubber in bridge, it had to be some mellowing in her later years that I didn't witness. It is no secret that she and I shared, at times, a rough road together. She was disappointed with the path that I chose in life and, I think, with the path that has been given to me, in this culture, by my sexual orientation. Though I held a grudge about that for a long time, I would like to share an experience that changed all that. During these last very difficult two plus years, when we knew that there would be no recovery, no going home, I knew anything that I really had to say to her had to said then or never said at all.

And so we talked one afternoon at La Posada, very openly and frankly - about everything. It was not an easy conversation for either of us. But as her strength was fading, she said that all she ever wanted was for me to happy. In that moment all I could feel was her constant love for me, and I knew that that had always been true. Even my regrets that I had not always been able to fully express the love that she deserved disappeared. So thank you mother, there are no more grudges. From my side any resentment has evaporated and that's because, in no small measure, you were so generous and so courageous in those last difficult 27 months.

Just a little background, in zen retreats there are only a few activities, meditating, eating, sleeping, and preparing the vegetables, which means lots of peeling potatoes. With this poem I asked all the people with whom I shared those retreats to pray for mother. I now ask that our prayers be added to yours, in gratitude that her suffering is over, and with the prayer and our blessing that she finds peace in the invisible life that is always with us.

When all the others were away at Mass
I was all hers as we peeled potatoes.
They broke the silence, let fall one by one
Like solder weeping off the soldering iron:
Cold comforts set between us, things to share
Gleaming in a bucket of clean water.
And again let fall. Little splashes
From each other's work would bring us to our senses.

Posted by tellall at 3:41 PM


The Mother of Us All and the Gift of Tears
Ken
Sunday, May 13, 2007

I woke up this morning missing my mother who has been dead now for several years. Given the contentious quality of our relationship for most of our 60 years together, I am surprised that oftentimes I find tears in my eyes when I think of her. I still remember phones calls where she slammed down the receiver, our long periods of not speaking, her steely resolve that I was going to get straight somehow, by the force of her will, and marry (being her son, that locked us in absolute stalemate for almost 20 years), her cold punishment for my seemingly uncooperative nature.

Thank you, Ken, for allowing me to post this in my blog. I shall try your Zen meditation ...Charles