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Do All Mothers have Super Powers? by Jane Lang
My mother had super powers; the one I respected most was when her back was turned and I reached into a Whitman candy box, silently picked up, turned over a square medium dark chocolate, pushed ever so lightly into its center on the bottom not top, to see if it contained caramel, my favorite. She would say and sound just like Cruella de Vil, “You picked it up, you eat it.” I wondered how she did that?
My mother was a mediator, a negotiator of the
highest rank, could diffuse conflict on the spot. It’s difficult with a sibling six years older than yourself, I yearned for his approval. Like the time I cleaned his room as a surprise, emptied a waste basket into the burning fireplace: firecrackers, how was I to know? Explosions! Fire department! She quietly calmed my anxiety, offered viable solutions to my furious brother. Serene as Mother Teressa. I wondered how she did that?
My mother has been dead for over twenty years; her heart still speaks to me and advises, directs, quietly loves and listens as my own guidance has become outmoded. I look for approval, satisfaction from my hatchlings, both now golden eagles who soar, orchestrate their own tunes. My mother produced all this with those super powers; answered every question in a simple, calm, non-combative way. I wonder how she did that?
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