Two sides of the same coin with a different value: a son’s perspective of Mother’s Day

Yesterday I wrote a post reflecting on what it means to be motherless as I grow older. My brother wrote his own reflections on being a motherless son and man and asked if he could share them in this space. Often we hear women discuss their feelings but far too often we don’t hear from men, so I am honored to share this space with him on a days that heavily weighted for both of us.
First off I would like to thank Shay Stewart-Bouley for allowing me to write in her space. For those that don’t know I’m her brother.  She normally calls me “little” brother, and she doesn’t know i seriously abhor the title but today I will let her have it because i am in her space.

The reason for writing today…Mothers Day.

If you follow her…you know how the loss of Marilyn has been a dramatic impact on her. I can only imagine the impact of what that is like of losing the parent of the same sex. My vantage point is that of the brother…

14 years ago, life was moving for me…just graduated with a Bachelor’s degree…on my way to grad school in another country, engaged…and it was like the last episode of the Cosby show…as when Theo was headed out to school…then the nightmare came…the details I wont bore you with but lets say there were moments were Guantanamo Bay would have been welcomed.

In her passing, in my sister’s case at 31 in my case 23, there was a forced maturity that I wouldn’t wished on anyone. The first year of everything was brutal, so much so in my case that in the first 18 months, after her passing I couldn’t eat a home cooked meal without literally breaking down into tears (To this day I don’t eat macaroni and cheese because it can stir those emotions.  Don’t judge me, if you had her mac and cheese, you’d cry too lol)

As well 18 months later, Granny aka my mom’s mom passed. So what did that mean for me as “Lil brother?” Well if death wasn’t enough, it came with learning lessons about a deceased love one you couldn’t elaborate on. Also in death as a young man it was realization that there was no fall back. At the time I was engaged (of which that situation didn’t work out) and there was no “going back home to mom”. Our father, was dealing with things that well we can NEVER imagine himself in losing his life partner, partner in crime, helpmate and every other term of 32 years and learning to live in a world that frankly, my sister and I were versed in already.

Over the years, unbeknownst to her, this moment in time destroyed my optimism and brought about some serious darkness in my life. Not just the obvious in the form of depression (which I was diagnosed with in 2007, the mild kind), but a certain lack of emotion that has played well for me professionally but not so much personally. The loss of our mom, has created three perspectives that now exist in three different sections of the country as we live in different places and has created a different impact. (Father, sister, and brother respectively)

14 years later, as the son of Marilyn, the youngest I reflect and it is in these moments the sting comes back anew. Why now? Life changes…my evolution as a man, as an artist and more is traced to that moment in time. In many moments i miss her wit and insight.  My sister valiantly attempts to be the matriarch, but in many ways that’s not fair to her, as the researcher in me observes her struggle, yet I empathize with her attempts to be better. Truth is, if you have not been made a motherless child, you can only imagine how it rewires you as a person. In my travels, since her transition, I myself have done things that she would be proud of and some well, not so much. Over the years i have sought counseling, positive and negative replacements and well nothing compares to the original O.G. I have had the pleasure of watching her impact and her legacy grown through my nephew and now his family, my niece, the work of our father who can bring tears to your eyes, when he says I am STILL married. (Fighting tears at the thought just writing that) and well if you know Marilyn’s kids, you know her.

If you wanted to know Marilyn Stewart, look in her kids eyes.  Its a fire to us…if your wanted to know her, watch our tenacity. We are both super stubborn lol.  Our  mom was a fighter to the end, and a person that would make things happen out of nothing. I learned more about her in death than in life. I learned why family was important to her so much as someone instrumental to her discarded her. I learned of the decisions she made that as her youngest i definitely didn’t agree with, but I empathize and understand. If you want to he know her, look at her children’s accomplishments. 2 kids, with a total of 5 degrees (3 master’s and one working on a PhD, because education was important to her). But if you REALLY want to know Marilyn’s kids, watch our smiles.. She had a way of disarming people even in the midst of the darkest situations and could make a true friend out of an enemy in a way that diplomats would envy.

So year 14, and we are at Mother’s Day. When folks sit in church all day, take mom’s to get cheddar biscuits and get cards…I am in the distant, pursuing my goals in one part of the country, my sister being a mom and now Grandmother in another, and Pops in the homeland in yet another, probably listening to Kenny Roger’s Lady (You’d have to know him to get that one)

Truth is, as a member of the motherless child clan, these moments provide a sting, and yet we know she lives on in us, and generations to follow. We grieve at painful and happy moments because she doesnt inhabit this space, yet inside she is with us. Somewhere in heaven she is sipping some good champagne, with her legs crossed shaking her food listening to Maurice White from EWF or having the angels play some steppers music.

To those with a mother….be thankful,…if you she is on this plane, and you don’t talk, kill the bs…because there are those that would give every accolade back to have a convo with her…I’m one of em… to those that share in the grief of the day, you are not alone. We cry and we laugh together in the memories of our mothers. To my sister, life has come full circle from a daughter who lost her mother to a grandmother with generations that seek your wisdom and guidance. I pray that their wisdom is with you as much as their ability to cook (you still owe me that recipe book too I AIN’T FORGOT WOMAN lol)

Respectfully submitted
“Lil” brother
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