Thursday, May 13, 2010

Happy Mother's Day, ladies

“After all these years, I see that I was mistaken about Eve in the beginning; it is better to live outside the Garden with her than inside it without her.”
-Mark Twain, Adam's Diary

My alarm is set to a pop radio station. By 8am, the hosts of the morning talk show are usually several drinks deep, and their shouting is a good waker-upper. The other day, there was a discussion on the evils of women.

It seems Talibany, but you hear it all the time. Girls are bitches. We gossip, lie, manipulate, and generally ruin lives. We hate all other women besides our friends, and we secretly hate them too. The only reason we don't rape and kill is because we're too weak.

At this point, someone usually speaks up. I kept waiting. After twenty minutes, I wanted to cry. Almost every caller was a woman, and they all agreed that they belonged to a race of monsters.

---

Last winter, my mom called from the hospital. She was in a bike accident.

When I walked into the ER, I didn't know what to expect. Thankfully, it had sounded worse than it was. What caught me off guard was my reaction. I’m not a squeamish person, but when they said she'd need surgery, I fled to a bathroom across the hall, where my reflection above the sink was sweaty and chalk-white.

I paused.

I went back. I forced a smile. I held her hand, wondering if it helped, praying for my dad to show up and take over.

But when he did, something strange happened. He froze. As he explained, this was paralyzing: Seeing a loved one in pain when he couldn’t do anything, drive to the hospital, save the day, shoot the bastard responsible...

---

At the risk of sounding traditionalist, I think it’s wonderful that men often want to fix everything. But sometimes you can't. The world is unfair. Cars crash, bombs fall, boxes open, and all you can do is show compassion – the simplest human act, but not the easiest.

I wish I could take credit for this, but I know that pasty girl in the mirror. I’ve seen her before, moments before speeches and piano recitals.

This time was different. It only took a few words. Your mom needs you.

I think something on my second X chromosome just kicked in. And I'm eternally grateful for that, but it also makes my heart break every time I see another woman calling herself weak.

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