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We all take good care of the things that matter. Our homes, our pets, our cars. Are you doing the same for your brain? Acting early to protect brain health may help reduce the risk of dementia from conditions like Alzheimer's disease. Studies have found that up to 45% of dementia cases may be prevented or delayed. By managing risk factors, you can change make brain health a priority. Ask your doctor about your risk factors and for a cognitive assessment, learn more@brainhealthmatters.com hello Slowdown listeners.
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Poetry Magazine has a special offer just for you. Subscribe to one year of Poetry Magazine today and receive their limited edition tote bag for $39. That's the cost of one Loboo. You'll receive 10 beautifully curated print magazines of contemporary poetry, unlimited digital access via the Poetry Magazine app and a tote bag to carry it all. Subscribe today@poetrymagazine.org Slowdown25 to receive this special offer. I'm Maggie Smith and this is the Slowdown. Love is a verb. It's an action. You can tell someone you love them over and over again. You can tell them every morning and every night. You can tell them when you call from out of town or when you text from work. You can write it in cards and in emails. But people know we love them by what we do. We know we are loved by how we're treated and regarded by love in action, not by words alone. My mother is someone who says, I love you a lot, but she shows her love more than she professes it. She is the kind of mother and grandmother who shows up. When my sisters and I were young, you could find our mom at our soccer games and recitals and choir concerts. Now that she has grandchildren, you can find her at orchestra concerts and cross country meets and the games of another generation of soccer players. In our family, she's the kind of mom who makes and freezes multiple meatloaves or pots of homemade soup and then drives around town dropping these meals off at her daughter's homes. She has a knack for finding the perfect little presents for the people in her life, presents that make you feel seen and, yes, loved. Cherished. To know my mother is to love her. Her smile, her infectious laugh, her hugs. As a parent, a daughter, a sister, a partner and a friend, I hope to learn from my mother's example that love is being present. It's not about grand gestures, but about the small, consistent things you do for the people you care about. Today's poem is a testament to a mother's love and courage and fierce protection. Maybe the real measure of a person is what they do for people or creatures who cannot do anything for them in return. Love is not transactional. Love, like poetry, is a gift economy. My Mother's Love By James Allen Hall My mother feeds the multitudes of abandoned cats that live in the field behind our office. Every sundown. She untangles fur, feline lineages. She names each one, and though they are legion, she does not forget. She administers heartworm medicine to 100 feral cats. She cradles them. Imagine her frenzy then, the day the bulldozers come, a sudden God congress in the air. The cats hunker in their homes in the ground. The bulldozers begin their awful roll. My mother at field's edge waves her arms, a decoy. She stands in front of the men and their stomachs, big rollers of flesh. She does not move. She shouts, until their faces dampen with her spit. She hears the earth fill with mewling. She digs. She saves 32 cats that day, then takes them home, bathes themselves, speaks to them calmly, even as they claw up and down her arms. I'm her witness. I'm buried in this story, down in the place where collapse is inevitable, where love is only love if it makes you bleed. The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. To get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter and find us on Instagram at Slow Slow down show and blue sky@downdownshow.org. Hello Slowdown listeners. Poetry Magazine has a special offer just for you. Subscribe to one year of Poetry Magazine today and receive their limited edition tote bag for $39. That's the cost of one Loboo. You'll receive 10 beautifully curated print magazines of contemporary poetry, unlimited digital access via the Poetry Magazine app and a tote bag to carry it all. Subscribe today@poetrymagazine.org Slowdown25 to receive this special offer.
Podcast: The Slowdown: Poetry & Reflection Daily
Host: Maggie Smith
Episode: #1417: "My Mother's Love" by James Allen Hall
Date: December 22, 2025
This episode, hosted by Maggie Smith, centers on the everyday manifestations of love—especially maternal love—and how it is best communicated through action rather than words. Smith reflects on the non-transactional, gift-like nature of love, drawing from her relationship with her own mother before sharing and contemplating the poem "My Mother's Love" by James Allen Hall. The selected poem is a tribute to the selfless, fierce, and sometimes sacrificial nature of genuine care.
Love as Verb: Maggie Smith shares personal reflections, emphasizing that love is more than words—it's shown through devotion, presence, and selfless acts.
Her Mother's Example: Smith gives anecdotes of her mother's steadfast and tangible care—attending kids’ events, making homemade meals, delivering gifts. Even though her mother often says "I love you," it's her consistency and presence that truly communicate that love.
Beyond Transaction: Maggie extends the theme to a meditation on what it means to care for those who cannot repay us—a recurring value in both poetry and genuine love.
On Love and Sacrifice:
"Love is only love if it makes you bleed." — James Allen Hall (poem, 05:34)
On the Everyday Heroism of Mothers:
"She does not move. She shouts, until their faces dampen with her spit. She hears the earth fill with mewling. She digs. She saves 32 cats that day." — James Allen Hall (poem, 04:40–05:07)
This episode gracefully weaves Maggie Smith's personal reflections on her mother's love with James Allen Hall’s vivid and courageous portrait of maternal care. Smith's words and the featured poem both suggest that love isn’t proven in declarations, but in unwavering, sometimes messy, compassionate acts—especially for those who cannot return the favor. Both host and poet invite listeners to reflect on how love, like poetry, often operates as a self-given, transformative gift—most powerful when it costs us something, and most vital in the small, ongoing things we do.