Volcanoes and Diamonds

We’re planning a party to celebrate our mother. I thought it might be nice to have a book made about her. I know there are companies who put those together—you have the person answer questions about their life, and then a lovely keepsake is created. But our mother was in a car accident when I was 36 and doesn’t have much memory of the years before that, so that option wouldn’t work well for us.

So I thought perhaps we, her 13 living children, could compile memories for her—things that we remember about growing up with her.

People are complicated. We often take on more than we can chew, and that is very true of Mom. She was overwhelmed much of the time. Her frustration was usually there, like living with a volcano; rumblings sometimes, pyroclastic flow sometimes, rocks and ash flying through the air sometimes.

But aren’t diamonds brought closer to the surface by volcanic eruptions?

Mom taught us the value of hard work. She taught us to innovate—sometimes you make do with what you have. And she taught us to have fun. We didn’t sing goofy songs or make funny faces or dance in circles with Dad—that was all with Mom.

Sometimes it’s hard to remember the good times. The rumblings and the flying rocks are easier to recall.

But the good times were there, too.