Sunday, June 1

"Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it..."

This is me 46 years ago (yikes, really!) on the day I graduated from high school. Further down the page is my daughter-in-law Tahne, who graduated 26 years ago. She’s with Tierney, her daughter and my granddaughter, who will graduate Sunday.
          My heart aches for all of us.
          For Tierney because I know no matter what her parents do or no matter how smart and talented and pretty she is, somewhere down the line she’s going to get hurt. By a guy. By other women. By bosses. By people she’ll work with.  By family members.
          For Tahne because all she can do when that happens is watch, support, and pick up the pieces. “You’ll get ’em next time, honey,” she’ll say. Tahne’s a woman in a man’s field—she knows all about getting ’em next time.
          For me because time goes so fast nowadays. As Laura Drake says, I’m not at the bottom of the proverbial bucket yet, but I can see it from where I am.
          Despite the heartache, though, there’s nothing I’d change about the three of us. Oh, I’d stop the hurt Tierney hasn’t felt yet if I could, and I’d wish Tahne’s achievements had come easier than they did. I’d unsay a whole lot of things I’ve said over the years. But we are all accomplished, strong women.
          This is what I love about writing romance and women’s fiction and being a 
part of the sisterhood of romance writers. We write about ourselves. About women who get hurt, who break glass ceilings, and make mistakes. And when we do it, we empower the very least among us. If we could use only one word to describe our genre, empowerment is the one I’d choose.
          Congratulations, Tierney. See you at graduation. I love you so much.
          Congratulations on your new job, Tahne. I am so proud of you and I love you.
          Congratulations to me—after all, they’re mine.

          And congratulations to all of you. We are women. Hear us roar.

18 comments:

  1. good luck to all of you!! :D And I agree, Liz, we all need a little roaring from time to time. Or minute to minute. :D

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Kristi. One thing about being "of a certain age" is that even though gender bias still exists, I remember when it was prevalent. We have indeed come a long way!

      Delete
  2. Keep roaring, Liz! You have much to say, and much to be proud of...loved the post!

    ReplyDelete
  3. So happy to be in that sisterhood with you--you inspire me and challenge me and support me and make me want to be a better writer and a better woman. Thanks and count me in...I'm roaring right beside you, baby!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Great post, Liz! I'm crying. When aren't I any more? This post so hits home right now. You wish you could take away all the coming pain, but you just can't.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You sure can't. I remember asking my mom why she didn't warn me that after I had a child I would never again be unafraid. She said she was afraid if she had, I might not have had kids. Being unable to stop their hurt is right at the top of the list of fears, and it's one you just can't avoid.

      Delete
  5. What a wonderful post, Liz! My daughter is 28, and I know I'll never be able to let go of my worry for her. I still want to protect her from all hurt and failure, but I know I can't. I'm getting better at keeping my "advice" to myself, but I can't turn off the fears. She lives in a huge, crime-ridden city, takes long road trips in her tiny, old car, and generally lives her life - which is what I want her to do. But it isn't easy being a mother.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, no, it isn't. It's the best job ever, with the longest job description. Has good benefits, though--case in point, the granddaughter up there. :-)

      Delete
  6. Wonderful post, Liz. My daughter graduated from high school last year, and has been away at school this year and I have found myself at times wishing I could be there for her, just to help ease her through something...but this is her time to learn to stand, and my time to learn to stand back and let her be strong...but it's oh so hard! I loved the post. Thanks!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Donna. It is a hard and delicious time, isn't it?

      Delete
  7. Heartwarming post, Liz. I recently had to help my daughter over a heartache. Even though she's 30, its still hard to watch her suffer. But like most women, she's strong and she's bounced back. I admire her so much. Wishing you and your family good times and warm support during the hard.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks so much. It is so hard, but rewarding, too. Good on your daughter!

      Delete
  8. Once a real mother, always a real mother. (I had to add the real because giving birth does not necessarily make you a mother) No, that happens when you hold the hand of your married daughter who has just been told her husband wants a divorce and you know you can't do a thing, or listen to her cry when she discovers you are not going to live forever. May all the women who read this blog roar with you, Liz, and may they all understand women who are real mothers are the reason this earth has lasted for these thousands and thousands of years. Good Luck to you and "your women", in fact to the whole sisterhood.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Well said, Allison, and thank you for coming by. Godspeed on your journey. I hope your daughter's life has come back together.

      Delete