Hello Friends,

I’ve realized that I tend to riff in the audio version/voiceover. If you want a few sidebars about the banned books, that where they are. 😊

On the anniversary of my mother’s death

If you read Be a Cactus last week, you know that it was the first anniversary of my brother's death and that today is the fourth anniversary of my mother's death. To state the obvious, the holidays have a different atmosphere than they used to.

On this anniversary, I’ll be helping a friend with a garage sale at her mom’s house. I’m heading out her way a few days early to sort and label things along with two other friends who are coming from the Bay Area. The mom who owns the home recently moved to nursing care after falling and breaking her femur. So—sorting out parents’ stuff is on my mind.

Since my parents died, months apart in 2020, I’ve been writing a lot about them. Creative nonfiction, mostly. I wrote an essay, published on HuffPost, about their obsession with sexual purity for my sisters and me. It went viral in many places. I’ve also tried to write to understand and empathize with my mother. That work has been of less interest to publishers (“Loved this, but it’s not quite a fit. Please send us more of your work!”) A thing I learned: it’s hard to write about your mother.

I have some longer unpublished essays about caring for my parents during the pandemic and about my mother’s pride in her Irish background. I decided to go another direction and write about her in drabbles—that is, in (exactly) 100-word stories.

A person can’t be condensed into such a short form, but it has helped me to think about the forces that shaped my mom. I could only look at one aspect of her at a time, so these drabbles are named after parts of her body—her teeth, her ankles, her tongue. Then I tried to write one about the tiny orange tree we bought to commemorate her. It’s a bit of a mess for only 100 words. What I want to say there may not fit the micro-form. Finally, I took the drabble “My Mother’s Tongue” and converted it into a poem, which is a bit longer, about 115 words. But I think I like it better. To be sure, poetry is not my forte, but some friends who are poets helped me with the line breaks.

So, Mom, here’s for you.

Three Meditations on the Death of My Mother During a Pandemic

My Mother’s Teeth

Were a full plate of false, which she hid, being but thirty. Her secret discovered when, brushing in the shower, she dropped them, chipping the right front incisor. A backhanded gift of realism. Mother of five, measuring herself against conventional beauty standards, she daily lowered her bucket of desire into a well of shame.

Decades on, suffering from dementia, she is a pandemic convict, I her voluntary cellmate. Awaiting the advent of order, I urge her to finish her lunch. She removes her teeth at the table, wedging her fingernail between molars, flicking a bit of lettuce in my direction.

My Mother’s Ankles

Forced offices of intimacy now bind us, though you never desired touch. You accept me scrubbing your back, trimming your toenails. Bending to dry your feet, I note your swollen ankles, comprehend their meaning, having been through this with my in-laws. Your heart is failing. Tucking you in for the night, I raise your feet on pillows. I place a hand over your ankle, gauging.

“You’re warm,” you say. “That feels good.” Your words an invitation to rest a second hand on your other ankle. I’ll remain here, a sentinel at the foot of your bed, awaiting your imminent sleep.

The poem after the drabble “My Mother’s Tongue”

Mother Tongue

Where did your consciousness go? I call you

from every corner of the room. Some days

you identify me. My daughter.

I can see this is a win for you, but the home

care nurse presses. What’s her name?

You pull many from memory, none of them mine.

Rosemary is a favorite. Finally it is simply

you watching me watching you, suspicious

of my presence. Where

did your consciousness go? I imagine it

hanging out at a single’s bar, bourbon and cigarette, waiting

still, for the right man to deliver you

from the reality of five children

in seven years. But you receive

a more practical Eucharist, your own body

placed on your tongue, swallowed.

Here’s the one that isn’t working out. Feel free to make suggestions. (Actually, feel free to make suggestions about any of these.)

The Grove

or

The Transplant

In a sibling group text about my move, Lee, agricultural water manager, advises starting over. “Digging up citrus is a BAD plan. The rootstock of modern hybrid trees sustain damage. Transplanted, it won’t do well.”

“She’s trying to save the tree she planted when mom died,” Lisa answers.

“It’ll live,” Lee says, “just stunted.”

“Can it bear fruit?” I ask. “I don’t need big.”

“Stunted trees bear the sweetest fruit. All the energy goes into fewer pieces. When we grew up, our stunted navel nearest Center Drive? Best fruit ever.”

“You're right,” John jumps in. “Best oranges I’ve ever had.”

Part 2: Library and book ban news

There was a lot of book news this week; these are some of the stories important to me. And they only go through Wednesday since I have been gone the rest of the week to help a friend.

How To Explain Book Bans to Those Who Want to Understand from Book Riot

I’ve shared this before, but it’s important and will be new to our newer subscribers.

Here are several talking points you can and should use with the people in your life who may otherwise not understand the complexity and seriousness of book bans happening in school and public libraries. It will not include everything, nor can it. Instead, this is meant to be for people who are eager to listen and learn but may be overwhelmed with where to even begin.

Texas State Board of Education proposes taking over school library book ratings. Here's why from the Austin American-Statesman

The proposal would give the elected education board significant power over determining what’s appropriate for public school libraries and would mirror legislation that has been filed by Rep. Jared Patterson, R-Frisco, who in 2023 authored the Reader Act, a law that placed the burden of rating books on vendors and has been on hold over litigation.

A process of rating books that children are reading in schools is best fit for the state board, said board member Tom Maynard, R-Florence.

…

If passed, HB 183 would largely rewrite a section of the 2023 Reader Act that has been under litigation since July 2023. Patterson's 2023 Reader Act requires book vendors that sell to school libraries to rate their material for either sexual relevance or sexual explicitness.

Book vendors — including Austin’s BookPeople — and library associations sued the state over the law, insisting it was overly burdensome to businesses.

…

Member Rebecca Bell-Metereau, D-San Marcos, worried that the task of wading through every possible book review request that could come before the state board from across Texas could be insurmountable.

“This would be a herculean task to read and rate all of these books,” Bell-Metereau said. “That just seems insane to me.”

Maynard also suggested local school boards would welcome the state board taking decisions about the appropriateness of library books out of their hands.

“They don't like having protesters in front of their building,” Maynard said. “For us, it's business as usual.”

First list of banned books in Knox County Schools released, schools have until winter break to remove them from WBIR 10 News.

The list was sent out to teachers and contains 48 books that are scheduled for removal from Knox County Tennessee public school libraries:

* Me, Earl & The Dying Girl by Jesse Andrews

* The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie

* Go Ask Alice by Anonymous

* Chopsticks by Jessica Anthony

* 13 Reasons Why by Jay Asher

* Girls on the Verge by Sharon Biggs Waller

* There's Going to Be a Baby by John Burningham

* Draw Me A Star by Eric Carle

* Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

* Just Listen by Sarah Dessen

* A Stolen Life by Jaycee Duggar

* The Carnival of Bray by JessieAnn Foley

* In A Glass Grimmly by Adam Gimwitz

* Lighter Than My Shadow by Katie Green

* Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen

* Locke and Key: Alpha and Om...

Grief in Drabbles (and a Poem)

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