Mothering Across Time: Musings, Meanderings, Mistakes and Mastery

My mother Helen Redman and my brother Paul Barchilon in 1965
My mother Helen Redman and my brother Paul Barchilon in 1965

Today is my mother’s 75th birthday. Honoring her from afar is not easy to do. I wish I was there with her to celebrate. Luckily my brother and his partner are, along with her beloved husband, my beau père, so I know she’ll be well fêted.

I thought I’d reflect a little bit on our history together as mother and daughter. It’s been a long, complex and wondrous arc through hard stuff and into healing. There is magic in time, it really makes a huge difference, in all parenting narratives.

The early years of parenting are non-stop, no time to pee, breathe, think or sleep. This segues into the busy years of school, extra curricular activities, friend and relationship dramas, and into the teenage years and young adulthood. If you manage to get to the teenage years without too much drama, mazel tov. Most folks hit serious obstacles in the teenage years.

My family has gone through a lot together, and we’ve had long hard swatches of not very good or kind communication with each other, mostly on my part towards my mother. I cringe when I think of the nasty, blaming letters I used to write to her, ten page nasty things. She’s always tried to understand or be supportive, as best she could, even when she was devastated by what I said or was going through. It’s very difficult when your daughter steps off cliffs into territory that is absolutely not gentle, friendly, clear or what you dreamed of for her. As a mother myself, I know that this is one of the hardest parts of parenting.

My single parenthood and pregnancies were very hard on my parents. They navigated it the best they could. I still didn’t feel supported enough by them. This led me to live with a community that was not the safest place for me or my children. There have been lots of really hard months and years, angry letters and strange interactions over the last thirty years of my being a mother.

BUT, here’s the key thing, my mother NEVER stopped reaching out to me, never stopped trying to connect and bridge the distances between our ways of being and thinking. That tenacity and love for family has been a huge offering. It  literally created a bridge over troubled waters; not always a sturdy one, but a place where we could cross over to each other and find our way back to loving and connecting.

The love and constant effort on her part has never wavered. As a daughter who has really gone far out on lots of shaky limbs and hung out near erupting volcanic kinds of situations, that love and effort have made all the difference. I’m so lucky to have such a vibrant, strong and creative woman as my mother.

She’s a feminist, an artist, she’s intelligent, she practices Yoga, Qi Gong, and meditation daily. She helps women navigate the territory of loss around the death of children. She is honest about her feelings, she cares deeply about her family and friends. She makes the effort again and again to get us together and to be real.

I also am happy to share that my mother has a huge retrospective show of her work coming up, full of her perspective and portraits of her/my family. If you are in the San Diego area, I hope you will go to one of these events.

 Catalogue cover: Maternal Echo, oil pastel, 43" x 30", 1964

Catalogue cover: Maternal Echo, oil pastel, 43″ x 30″, 1964

Helen Redman: The Other Side of Birth

San Diego Mesa College Art Gallery
Exhibition: March, 10 — April 14, 2015
Opening reception: Thursday, March 12 from 5-7 pm
Artist’s lecture at 7 pm, immediately following reception in G101
Conversation with the Artist at gallery: Friday, April 10, 1:30 pm
7250 Mesa College Dr., San Diego, CA 92111
Phone: (619) 388-2829
Website: www.sdmesa.edu/art-gallery

Helen Redman: Through a Mother’s Eye

Women’s Museum of California
Exhibition: April 23 — May 31, 2015
Opening Reception and Conversation with the Artist: Thursday, April 23 at 6 pm
2730 Historic Decatur Road, Barracks 16
San Diego, CA 92106
Phone: (619) 233-7963
Website: www.WomensMuseumCa.org

Today I just want to say, I love you Mumu and I’m so lucky to be your daughter! I hope we have lots and lots of time to take walks and enjoy being near each other as the next many years of our lives unfold.

Mother Daughter Love!
Mother Daughter Love!

Impugning the Tooth Fairy, for shame!

My youngest when he still believed in magic.
My youngest when he still believed in magic.

My relationship with the Tooth Fairy has been a long one, since I started having children when I was twenty and I still have an eleven-year-old at home. My daughter, who is 23, still has, the pink corduroy hand made sewing kit, with a maroon heart embroidered on the front, that she got from the Tooth Fairy when she lost her first tooth. The Tooth Fairy, at my domicile, has never been interested in mere coinage. Letters from her to my children, reminding them to be mindful of the earth and thanking them for their tooth, pictures, books, magic stones, and also somehow she manages to leave behind the deeply wished for items  they wanted. She really goes all out at our place, or at least she did. Sometimes, currency was used, and my children were left wondering about the identity of such a whimsical and unpredictable being. Since the Tooth Fairy and I share a common love of and profound delight in the wonders of the world, this was always a good thing.

At our house, there is also the dynamic of two radically different people who are married to each other and parenting together. You have me, the very spiritual, Jewish Mama, Lay Leader for her congregation, care-giver of people (both those living and in need and those who have died and preparing them for burial). I’m a loud, good food cookin’ and lovin’, friend of angels and fairies, wild woman. Then you have the taciturn logical, paragon of sobriety (my husband). Throw in a Tooth Fairy and it gets complicated.

So, our youngest had started to question the existence of my friend. This prompted the conversation with me that the Tooth Fairy is fairly sensitive and tends to stop visiting once her existence is questioned. That statement was met with the reassurance from my youngest that “I still believe in her, Mom.” But, mom could tell this wasn’t really true. Yet, there was just an edge of doubt in his voice, and perhaps of hope in my heart, that he really wasn’t quite sure. He hadn’t completely 100 percent moved into the daddy zone.

In case you haven’t figured this out yet, Daddy doesn’t believe in the Tooth Fairy.

Even though Daddy doesn’t believe in her, he occasionally has had to fill in for her over the years. Daddy has had to take on Tooth Fairy duty when Mommy fell asleep before she could be hosted. For me the Tooth Fairy and I dance together and exist simultaneously in the same body on those magical nights when a tooth has been placed under a pillow.

So, it was one of those nights, recently. Mommy was asleep; Daddy was on call for Tooth Fairy duty. In the morning, Ethan came into our room and informed me that the Tooth Fairy forgot to come by. Daddy responded to this announcement with a reminder that since we had just come through the pass near Bend, Oregon, full of snow with lots of stops to put on and take off our chains, the day before, that perhaps the Tooth Fairy was delayed due to having to put “chains on her wings.” Mommy gave Daddy a gentle whack under the covers, but Ethan seemed to accept this explanation.

So, things were all set for the Tooth Fairy to visit the following night. Ethan was having trouble falling asleep and Mommy again nodded off before she could do her rounds. So, the task unfortunately fell to Daddy again. In the morning, our son entered our bedroom groggy and befuddled. “Mom, I’m really confused, about the Tooth Fairy.” “Why, honey?” “Well, yesterday she forgot to come and this morning there is some money under my pillow but the tooth is still there, the Tooth Fairy doesn’t make sense.”

“Hmmm, that is strange. Well, perhaps her bag had a hole in it or something. Let’s try again tonight.” My son went to the bathroom and I turned to my hubby and said to him. “HELLO!!!! IT’S A TRANSACTION, MONEY FOR TOOTH!”

Before we could continue our conversation, our son reappeared and my beloved husband said: “Well, this is Humboldt County, perhaps our Tooth Fairy wasn’t flying on all-four cylinders last night.” At this point I got out of bed and forcefully, just shy of shouting said: “I can’t believe you would impugn the Tooth Fairy in that way!” My husband is cracking up and our son has a quizzical expression on his face. So, I start laughing too. Alas, the Tooth Fairy probably won’t ever visit our home again after this incident. Perhaps, I’ll get lucky and have grandchildren who lose their teeth while visiting, something I will be praying for from now until then.

The other important detail you need to understand this story is that unlike most of Humboldt County, we don’t partake of anything that could negatively impact our functionality as parents. I have no problem with medical marijuana use and even recreational use if it is legal and regulated and not for children or adolescents. Marijuana is not healthy for developing brains or for pregnant women.

We’re a pretty squeaky clean operation here, much to my wild woman frustration sometimes. I don’t ever want my parenting to be impaired. Even though we choose to fly/parent sober, sometimes we forget certain important details like remembering to take the tooth BEFORE you deposit the payload under the pillow.

We are also veterans of raising two children who survived growing up where being offered a joint whenever they were in town was a regular occurrence. We have prepared our youngest the same way we did the other two. We have armed our children with our stories, and experiences from the past.

If I start talking about the past now, this will turn into a huge tome. Suffice it to say, that I stopped doing drugs, even though I never did that much, when I was 18. I realized then that I didn’t need the drugs to feel the way the drugs made me feel. I walk around all the time in awe, very sensitized and in love with everyone, without help from any outside substances. Perhaps in the future, when I am an old woman, rocking to and fro, I’ll venture into those waters again.

"I Beleave that everything has Fealings." Portrait of Nicole, age 10, with her original artwork, by Helen Redman, 1974
“I Beleave that everything has Fealings.” Portrait of Nicole, age 10, with her original artwork, by Helen Redman, 1974

Our older children navigated the local territory pretty well. We trust our youngest, despite this recent Tooth Fairy impugning incident, will also make the right choices for himself. We will be there for him, despite of, or because of the fact that we live in this idyllic county. We will be fully present to facilitate the next few intense years of our son’s life as he journeys into puberty and beyond. He will probably be navigating them minus a belief in whimsical childhood things, much to my dismay. He can’t really get away too easily from the Giant Whimsical Thing he lives with though………………me!

Nicole (a.k.a. Mommy or Giant Whimsical Thing) lives in Bayside and channels the Tooth Fairy on occasion. She hopes your experiences with wonder never cease, regardless of your relationship with the Tooth Fairy, who visits Humboldt County, unimpaired in her full glory wherever she is invited. Just so you know, Fairies don’t need any kind of drugs; they’re like Mommy, already in an altered state, high on the nectar of the dew and the rays of sunshine or raindrops and the magic of the planet.

 

Nicole and Shadow 1983 by Helen Redman. This portrait of me ws done by my mother and shows my essential relationship with nature, magic and light and dark
Nicole and Shadow 1983 by Helen Redman. This portrait of me ws done by my mother and shows my essential relationship with nature, magic and light and dark

Just Being Frank, Opinion Column for the Arcata Eye: Impugning the Tooth Fairy, for Shame!!!! was originally published by Nicole Barchilon Frank on June 2, 2008. It has been slightly amended from the original here. Nicole’s children are now, as of this blog posting, ages 30, 28 and 18.

Ode to Ethan on this, his day of birth, January 20th

while you swam inside me
we called you Mowgli
we watched and waited for you
as you leapt and turned under
the surface of my being
and we welcomed you
with delight and love

18 Years ago, Ethan came into the world. This is him with his father's hands.
birthing you was not so
gentle, easy or graceful
but you yourself have been and are
gentle, easy, graceful
and more, so much, much more
now as you leap and fall
from silks unfolding, as you race
around the court and aim yourself
at the ball or the sound on the piano keys
I wonder can I marvel any more
than I already and constantly do
at who you are

Ethan and his Mommy, summer of 1997
there is no limit to wonder
when you open your heart
and you stretch me further
and more all the time
you nourish everything parched or worn
in me with your warmth
your kindness, your devotion
and your essence

Ethan and his Mommy's Trike
May the face of Holiness
continue to shine on you, through
you, and around you and may you
feel the presence of Holiness
like you feel my love, both
are yours forever and both
come from the same place where you
also come from

Ethan's baby Quilt, made by Nicole Barchilon Frank

Swim and leap about my
youngest sprout
I’m so, so glad you are here
I want to shout it out
Yay for Ethan, Yay for Ethan
Yay for You!

My big boy!
My big boy!

 

 

This poem was originally written on Ethan’s 17th birthday last year. Today, he is 18! I’m off to the store to get the raspberries for his birthday breakfast crêpes, that recipe will be coming soon!

Vows, Wow! Meaningful Kavanah (Intention) coupled with Holy Energy-Watch Out!

Nicole's Open Heart and Hands, in front of my sister Paula's grave marker.
My Open Heart and Hands, in front of my sister Paula’s, zichrona l’vracha’s, grave marker. 

Today, while cleaning through the piles of boxes and corners of my home that I need to get through before I go away, I came upon the original vow I made on January 21, 2008. I have been crying reading through my notes about this vow on scratch paper, tucked into one of my journals.

I do not speak in detail or much about the folks I have parented, cared for or held in tenuous and troubling and complex times. There are privacy issues and also, a deep desire to remain anonymous in my giving, which seems not possible, since so many folks have been involved in these adventures of mine. It’s different though when talking about things in a public context.

I’ll be honest and put down here the journal entries and notes that led to my initial vow to take some space for myself. These initial notes and thought are some of the origins that led to this process of going away for a full year Sabbatical retreat. It has been a long time coming.

The Vow I made:

In full awareness of the mysterious flow of the Universe, the River of Sparkling Light from which and to which we all return and belong, I Shoshanah Adamah Cohen/Nicole Andrée Barchilon Frank vow to attend to the Garden of my Soul and the seeds I am planting there of:

~Time for Deepened Torah Practice: Hebrew Study, Meditations, Prayer-Practice, Study of Sacred Texts, Communion with the Holy One

~Time for Writing and Art Projects: Cookbook, Arcata Eye Articles, Whatever needs to be written or created by me

~Time for Attending to my Body: Exercise, Dancing, Yoga, Walking, Massage, Trip to Hot Springs

I choose to not be distracted or drawn towards the RED LIGHT needs of others for 90 days from:

The Full Moon of Shevat, Tu B’Shevat 5768, New Year of the Trees, January 21, 2008

to

The Full Moon of Nissan, Tu B’Nissan, Erev Pesach April 19, 2008

At which time, I will reassess this vow and decide if I am called to continue this process for another period of time.

I have been re-dedicating myself to this vow for various periods of time, since the original writing. It has transformed my world. It is and has been powerful. I have said “No” so much more than I ever used to, creating Gevurah boundaries to temper my Chesed nature. I’ve included my favorite chart of the Tree of Life, that describes these qualities.

Tree of Life by Cindy Gabriel, copyright 1992
Tree of Life by Cindy Gabriel, copyright 1992

Another excerpt from the journal entry is a poem I wrote to navigate some of this territory. I’ve posted it in the Poetry section. It’s called Hineyni-Here I Am

So, from vowing to take space and saying “No” consciously more and more, I have actually managed to create the environment I have been needing. It has been a long journey. I still visit folks who are ill and attend to lots of people in various situations and generally offer myself to a lot of people in need. What is most relevant, is that my time doing this has shifted and it was the vow I took that helped shape that change.

Taking vows in the Jewish tradition is a very serious thing. We are encouraged NOT to take or make vows. They are too easy to break, and when they are made with intention/kavanah, they are seen as obligations between oneself and the Holy One and whomever we are also making a promise/vow to.

On Kol Nidre, we specifically are forgiven, in advance for all vows we take. There are lots of reasons for this, but essentially for me, what resonates in this has to do with the fact that it is VERY hard to keep promises and vows and there is a built in understanding of our human nature implicit in the practice of Kol Nidre.

So, when I take a vow, I do so knowing it is a big deal. I do not make vows lightly and I endeavor not to break them. This in itself is a very big challenge and daily practice.

May your vow taking be real and meaningful and may you find ways to release yourself from vows that are no longer relevant for you and to strengthen and engage more with the ones that are most right for you.

Attending to my vow of keeping Shabbat, so that’s all for now! Shabbat Shalom!

Hineyni-Here I am

***
***

little girl
who feels it all
the joy, the hungers
the gaping wound,
the tired, lonely aching call

still after all
wanting, needing to
FIX IT, hold it,
love it, nurse it,
make it whole and
let it be known that
NO ONE, NO ONE

IS ALONE

in your caress,
in your warm arms,
in all the prayers
and love and
tenderness
that flows to me
through you

through every leaf
reflecting light
through your warm
body close to mine
at night

for the fierce force of
friendship
minus all the hype

what a crazy world I live in,
we live in

stay open
open wide
with nowhere to hide

this is who I am
and who I was
made to be
there is nowhere to hide

except all around me
all through me
everywhere, everywhere
Ani Adonai Eloheihem

I answer Hineyni (Here I am)
again and again and again
for Eternity

***(original therapeutic artwork by Nicole Barchilon Frank working with healing her wounded little girl. Picture from early 1970s)