The people closest to me have asked over the years how I maintain my optimism – my calm certainty that in the end, all will be ok – even during my hardest moments. The truth is, I’m not sure how this happened, but I’ve thought about it a lot. Is it just something I was born with, the innate, quick “click” inside of me that just knows even a terrible situation is temporary and will pass? Is this genetic, just like some predisposition for the opposite, and I got lucky (very lucky)?
Maybe, but when someone attributes anything positive to me, I usually give a thank you to my mom. As I said just this week in a staff meeting, she was one of the good ones. When my kids have uttered anything complimentary about my mothering, I’ve always responded, “Everything I learned about being a mother came from my own.”
My mom’s childhood was complicated, at best. Instead of this making her bitter or angry, I was able to witness the opposite. As an adult, she created the life she wanted, and the childhood for me that she never had. This led to an immense gratitude that seemed to emanate from her, and which she expressed often. I got to soak this all in. Ultimately my mother’s perspective was bound in her faith – in herself, in my dad, in humanity, and in a divine presence. Her faith, the belief that there is a cosmic order to things we may not understand but can trust, that people are mostly good and also want to be mostly good, and her faith in herself as part of all this good, led to an incredible amount of joy.
So, in honor of my mom, this is what I want to bring to the High Holidays of 5786 and beyond – my own gratitude, faith, and the continuous stream of hope this brings. Thanks, mom.
On Amy’s desk at Ansche Chesed
Above: Photo of Amy & her mom, probably around 1982!
