Womenzwerk at the Pump

Do we have a right to "mother" everyone we know? Even complete strangers?

Will our desire to mother everyone never end? I was pumping gas yesterday on the way to work when I noticed a truck full of men pull up. One of them, a younger man, jumped out of the truck to pump the gas and clean the windshield. It was probably around twenty degrees yesterday morning which is almost balmy for Michigan this year. I noticed his bright yellow t-shirt and went about my business.

A few minutes later, a woman just slightly older than me appeared at the opposite pump and shouted to the man in the yellow-T that he needed to get a coat on. She sounded exactly like she could have been his mother. I actually looked up to see if she had gotten out of the truck he had come from, and was reprimanding her son. One look at their faces and I knew, these two were total strangers.

When the young man didn't reply, the woman walked over to him and once again told him to get his coat on. The young man turned and looked at her as if she actually had some authority over him and responded that he had just left it in the car because he had traveled about an hour so far and had taken his coat off while driving. This is common practice for commuters in Michigan who get their cars warm and toasty over the long haul. She responded that she had traveled the same distance and had the good sense to put her coat on when she got out. She went on to explain that he could catch his death of cold in that yellow-T. He said yes ma'am, but his business was finished so he got back in his vehicle and drove away.

The woman, less than satisfied, came towards me looking for trouble. I smiled mightily and promptly tripped over the gas pump that was tailing out of my car. She reached out to catch me and told me to be careful. I said yes ma'am and finished my business at the pump. I felt that we had all just shared a moment.

A true hallmark of Womenzwerk is the need to mother others. After all, if not us, who? If not now, when? Is it the role of all women to mother everyone in our paths? I think it might be. At the very heart of Womenzwerk is the willingness to care for others and an astute sense of responsibility for others' welfare, and that is what motherhood has always been about. I've heard it said that this is deeply imbedded in the female hormonal system, but I'm not sure. I think our desire to perform random acts of motherhood is passed down from generation to generation of women. We help others help themselves, even when they aren't asking for it. We watch each other do this and then we take it upon ourselves to continue the work. We know, as this woman did, that people may initially ignore us but they do hear us and will respond in some way if we deliver motherly messages with authority, because the world wouldn't be the same without mothers and you can never have too many.

I followed this woman out of the station and onto the highway. I watched her cautiously and slowly navigate the icy roads. I saw her pause for slower drivers and make way for incoming traffic. I followed her for about fifteen minutes before out paths diverged. I felt comforted, somehow, by her concern for Mr. Yellow-T and her friendly driving, and I knew that I would mother others that day because of her example.

So, what do you think? Do women have a responsibility and a right to mother others?

Down Time

What do you do with your free time?

So what do women do when the Womenzwerk is at a low ebb and it's time to relax? Logic would say that we should spend this precious time in any activity that refreshes our soul and makes us happy. But let's get real.

Down time is a thing we experience between loads of laundry, cleaning the kitchen, driving the kids around, calling Mom and working in the workplace, the yard or the homeless shelter. Womenzwerk requires that our down time comes in spurts of a few hours, maybe a day and rarely an extended period. So when it hits us that we have time to unwind, we may suddenly need to come up with something really fun in about fifteen minutes that doesn't last more than two hours and can only involve any girlfriends or others who are available at that moment. Kind of limits the excitement.

Just trying to come up with something that will really make us feel great between our work can produce a weird sort of anxiety. Most days, and it's usually on the weekends, I just resort to naps. Naps are the one true source of bliss for me where I'm not thinking about anything that I have to do next. Of course, when I wake up, I realize I've wasted the two valuable hours of downtime where I could be doing the kinds of things Oprah recommends to balance and restore my soul. And then I'm stressed again as I launch into the rest of the day's to-dos. Is it just me? I'm interested to know how women find joy in the midst of a daunting amount of Womenzwerk.

Maybe the joy has to come within the framework of our essential tasks. Ways of doing the basic requirements of a responsible woman's day while feeling totally hopeful, joyful and relaxed. Maybe it's just the approach that matters. Snow White and Cinderella come to mind. But then, I've always enjoyed a good fantasy. Share the joy, let us know how you maximize your down time. Or any time. Let 2009 be the year we find hope and joy.

So, what do you think? Do you have any free time and, if so, how do you spend it?

Church Ladies

Will our daughters be willing to be self-sacrificing church ladies?

This is a shout out to all the church ladies who keep us sane. You know these gals. They are the ones who do all the womenzwerk at home and then go on to do it for every one they know. They are always there with a casserole, a hug, a smile and a prayer. They are the ones who greet you in the hallway of your childhood church after 40 years, and not only recognize you but embrace you, call you by name and remember the names of your parents and your children. They are the very best huggers on the planet. They seem to be completely tireless. They are heroic women with true servant's hearts. They know everyone and every story of community in their world.

These are the women who helped us say goodbye to Mom in the traditional Methodist post-funeral luncheon. They baked the cakes and served the potato salad. They set and cleared the tables and left us alone when we needed space. They quietly and completely transformed an empty parish hall into a place where love could fluorish, between bites of ham buns and sips of coffee. They knew Mom, too, so they shared our sorrow and our memories as they went about their caring business. Unlike the nurses and doctors and social workers I had spent weeks with before this point, these women were not trained professionals in the art of dying with dignity. These women were simply filled with love and a devotion to true womenzwerk...the nurturing of community and souls. And they escorted Mom to God as surely as the trained caregivers.

I wonder as I write this if there will be church ladies in the future? Will my daughter or her friends be selfless enough to pick up the gauntlet and give as truly and completely as these women? What if churches as an institution fade away over time as many predict they will? Who will provide the loving glue that holds us together as communities? Who will provide the continuity from generation to generation. Who will make the casseroles and dole out the hugs? This is true womenzwerk, ladies. Someone needs to carry it forward.

So, what do you think? Who will be the church ladies of the next generation? Do you think our daughters will provide this type of Womenzwerk? Will it be through churches or what?

Ms. Jr.

Why don't women name their children after themselves like men do? Should we?

I just realized that something unusual has happened in my family. My mother was a "junior". Why it took me this long to figure this out is a mystery to me, but I think it is truly unusual. Mom's name was Lorena and her mother's name was Lorena, making my mom Lorena Jr. Now, there was never any big deal made about this. We never put Lorena Zoss Jr. on any correspondence. I don't remember anyone referring to her as J.R. or "junior". I can't remember her ever even acknowledging it.

So I have to think about my grandmother who, in 1923, decided to break with tradition and name her daughter after herself. Grandma must have been a radical feminist for her time, and might even be considered one in our times. If anyone else knows of women named after their mothers please let me know. On reflection, Grandma was a piece of work. She once made a Greyhound bus driver drop her at my mother's front door in suburban Chicago...but that's another story.

I'm curious about this. Why is it that with all the wonderful relationships between mothers and daughters, and all the heroic things that women do, few women name their own children after themselves? Why does it seem perfectly logical to celebrate a man's accomplishments by passing his first name to his heirs but not for a woman? I suppose it could be buried in the tradition of a woman giving up her maiden name at the altar. In that case the female "junior" isn't a completely identical name. But in this culture where women retain their maiden names or use them for various purposes (like mine), is this a tradition we can start? Maybe all first born daughters should be "juniors" to reflect the enormous contribution made by the women before them. Isn't naming our children really Womenzwerk anyway?

So what do you think? Should we start the tradition of naming our daughters after ourselves?

Be the daughter

What is a "good daughter" anyway?

What does it mean when doctors and nurses tell me to "just be the daughter" as I try to care for my aging Mom? I thought I was being the daughter when I quizzed the doctor on what medications were really needed or asked the nurse to be sure to add lots of sweets to Mom's dinner tray. I thought the role of the daughter was to advocate like a pit bull for my Mom. In fact, Mom's friends all call me a "good daughter". They must be right, after all they have watched me in action for years. My brother calls me a micromanager, but what does he know? He's a man and he's thousands of miles away.

But maybe being a daughter is something different. Maybe it's really just about being the love in the grand equation of caregiving. Maybe it's not running the errands, or emptying the bed pan or changing the sheets. Maybe it's more about the silence that falls between words, when a hair is brushed off a sweating forehead or a hand is massaged with a favorite lotion. Maybe it's knowing just when to play the Lawrence Welk CD instead of the classical music. Maybe it's not even necessary to be physically present to be a daughter, but can be communicated via voice over the phone or even on planes of existence we can't consciously understand. Maybe it's just love. In the end that is all there will be between us anyway. No bodies, no sounds, no distractions...just love. Maybe it's time for me to just be the daughter. Maybe they are right.

So what do you think? What is the role of a "good daughter" as we get older?