…forever friends…forever love…

Of all the testimonies given by countless Americans, prominent figures and everyday citizens, something that comes to mind as I sit watching all of them speak about their memorable relationships with Hillary Clinton, is what no one dares mention…Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky.

The only one chomping at the bit is The Donald . And I’m certain he’s saving it as his Trump card.

The image that remains with me of that tawdry period in President Clinton’s Administration is Chelsea strolling  between her parents, an arm around each of their shoulders, as they cross the White House lawn on their way to the helicopter. It’s a compelling glimpse of their beloved daughter holding her family together. With heads bowed toward hers, they look like broken people, especially Hillary.

Today there’s no evidence of that Hillary.

Whether it was their unbreakable family connection, their devotion to an only child, their enduring friendship, or their unwavering faith in God’s power to heal, or all of these combined…the Clintons have remain together for 38 years.

The “fighter” Hillary, the “change-maker” Hillary, the “stronger together” Hillary, and Hillary the wife, the mother and grandmother, “made lemonade out of lemons.” She stuck by her husband and faced down their critics; she didn’t turn her back on life. Instead, she returned to public service and became New York’s senator.

Observing Bill Clinton as speaker after speaker heaps accolades upon his wife, there’s no mistaking his pride at being the man who is lucky enough to be by her side as she makes history. However I’m sure Hillary would be the first to say, that she too is privileged to still be married to her soul mate. The man who encouraged her to be the best he knew she could be.

I know a thing or two about being married. My husband and I celebrated our 46th anniversary in June, the day after our daughter’s wedding. Married at 20, three years after we began dating, we went through the usual ups and downs of newlyweds. It takes time and work for a husband and wife to finally fit like “hand in glove.” It doesn’t just happen with vows. Personal issues don’t disappear with a wedding ring. Choosing a mate doesn’t mean he or she is perfection itself. For marriages that last, perfection comes with time and a willingness to compromise.

Weathering the worst together makes for enduring marriages, and…

…truly best friends and soul mates.

……….hugmamma.

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

elizabeth edwards, a mom

One of my earliest posts was of Elizabeth Edwards, who lost her battle with cancer today, dying at age 61. Exactly my age, I had nothing in common with her, yet I had everything in common with her, everything that mattered, that is. She was a mom who cherished her children, as much as I cherish my daughter. That made us sisters in faith. Birthing and nurturing a child is primal. When that invisible cord is severed by the death of an offspring, a mother who has invested, carries that loss forever. Edwards seemed to return her dead son’s memory to the womb from whence he came. There he remained in safe-keeping, until she could be with him again. I would do the same, if I lived longer than my child.

So while the media rehashes Elizabeth Edwards’ life, mainly its tragedies, including the disease which finally claimed her life, and the public scandal of her husband John’s infidelity, and the resulting birth of his mistress’ baby, I remember Edwards’ legacy as a mom, just a mom like me. She willingly enabled the lives of those she loved, helping them be the best they could be. All she wanted in return, was their love, and support. That’s all I want. Even when life takes a detour, and Edwards’ life took many detours, as has mine, we adjust for the good of those we love, and our own good.

“Resilience,” authored by Elizabeth Edwards, read as a love story, that special narrative between mother and child. In that instance, “blood is thicker than water,” even in the case of adoptions. Moms always give their life’s blood to their children. It’s part and parcel of maternal love. I may not agree with the manner in which Angelina Jolie garnered a father for her children, but I grant that she genuinely loves them.

Moms lives are “messy,” things never happening exactly as planned. But their maternal love is steadfast, as much as it is possible within the framework of their own personal “baggage.” I don’t think they set out to be bad moms; life happens. So while Edwards’ life seemed wrought with discord, loss of a son, loss of her marriage, loss of her life; her soul was like the eye of a hurricane, calm and steady, knowing that the storm always passes. Elizabeth Edward’s cyclonic life has finally brought her to the serene shores of eternal salvation, with her beloved son, Wade.

for a mom who weathered life’s storm… with love and courage… huge hugs…hugmamma.

“getting to happy”

One of Oprah’s guests today was author Terry McMillan who had written the book “Waiting to Exhale.” I remember having seen the movie it spawned, enjoying the 4 black actresses who portrayed the story’s main characters. I can’t recite what it was about, only that it dealt with the all too familiar romantic difficulties between men and women. McMillan’s newest book, “Getting to Happy,” brings the 4 women full circle. Maybe I’ll read this, her second book, or wait until the movie is made. I’m not overly fond of reading fiction, preferring non-fiction instead.

While I missed most of the interview, I was present when McMillan’s ex-husband was speaking of the hellish 5 years following their divorce. Feeling betrayed when he cheated on her with a gay partner, McMillan sought revenge by suing her husband and his attorney for $40 million. To his relief, she eventually dropped the suit. In her explanation to Oprah, the author explained that while she harboured resentment against her husband, she continued to suffer, because she’d hung onto the hurt. Once she released the pain and rescinded the lawsuit, McMillan was on her way, “getting to happy.” Sitting side by side, she and her ex teased and laughed, sharing the friendship they’d once had.

Interjecting an anecdote of her own life experience, Oprah told of a long-held grudge against someone she happened to observe one day at a distance, walking into Tiffany’s, laughing.  The woman looked like she’d carried on with her life, while Oprah had dwelt upon the rift between them. How could that woman not continue to be as agitated as Oprah over the incident? This was the question she asked the audience in total disbelief. I understood the look on her face.

When I lived in New York, I had worked for a black manager who involved me in his ongoing battle with his boss, the department’s director and her close friend, the vice president, both white females. I would return home each evening, upset and crying to my husband about the grief I was experiencing. Something he said finally sank in, shutting me up once and for all. “While you’re spending all your nights bemoaning something Tony’s done or said, he’s probably enjoying himself with friends, and a glass of wine.” Picturing him relaxed and laughing, angered me. I decided not to let my boss have one more minute of my day. “Out of sight, out of mind,” has become my motto when dealing with aggravating people. That’s not to say I always succeed, but I never stop trying.

of course Oprah learned the same lesson, long ago…hugmamma.