So last week was international women's day. And I get it. More than ever I know there’s a need to celebrate and promote women, it's just that the women being celebrated and promoted are ... How can I say this? Predictable?
I mean, we can't all be human rights lawyers, can we? Booker prize winners, or ground-breaking scientists. And, I strongly suspect that the vast majority of women reading this, live in a country where they are able to go about their business hassle-free. That is to say, within the context of our daily lives, there is no urgent call for urgent courage.
Most of us live normal lives, doing normal things. And although I'm more than happy to acknowledge all those extraordinary women in the limelight, I'd like to share with you a list of the ordinary women whose very ordinary and fleeting influence, has had such a lasting effect on my life.
So here is my international women's day list.
Kate's mum. When my children were small, Kate was my neighbour and on lazy school pick-ups, we'd dawdle along swapping news and gossip and gripes. One of Kate's favourite gripes was about her mother, who lived close and who always took the opportunity, as mothers do, to hand out unwanted and unsolicited advice. My favourite of which, and the one that has stuck, was not to over fill the washing machine. This sage nugget, Kate said, was usually offered as her mother nursed a coffee, and Kate rushed around, herding tots and lugging heavy laundry baskets. Regardless of the circumstances, every single time I fill my washing-machine I hear Kate’s mother's voice; always I end up removing that last pair of jeans. So thank-you, Kate's mum.
A fictional character. Roxie Hart of the musical Chicago, to whom the immortal line, 'I'm older than I ever intended to be,' belongs. I use this line more than any other, and routinely banter it back and forth with another old friend. People laugh when I say it, and go away thinking I'm witty and clever, but really I'm just a magpie. So, from Roxie, via me, take it. Use it. Stand in front of the mirror and practice saying it. I guarantee it will raise at least the ghost of a smile.
Another school-gate friend, S, who once told me, You don't see yourself the way other people see you, Cary.
My university lecturer, who once told me, Your mind is being opened up like a sardine can, and it's wonderful to see.
My first ever further-education teacher, who told me, when at the age of 39, I had ventured back into education, You could write a book.
I remember these lines and the women who spoke them so clearly, and I hope I always will. I think the message is, if someone takes the time to say something complimentary and/or meaningful to you, don’t argue. Don’t open your mouth and begin, Ah but … Oh well … I’m not … Just absorb what they’ve said. Oh, and give it back whenever, and to whomever you can.
The auxiliary nurse, whose name I never knew, who washed me after the birth of my last child. I didn't speak a word of Swedish and she didn't speak a word of English, and it didn't matter one jot. I held onto the shower rail, my legs wobbly and my stomach a deflated, swollen sac, as she soaped me down and cleaned me up with such tender and loving care, I cried. In fact as I write this, I'm crying. I'll always remember her silent kindness. Moments like this stay with you. As a writer I harvest them, and if you keep your ears and eyes open, you will find them in my books.
Another woman whose name I never knew. She was the mother of a student, at the dance school I attended when I was sixteen. For some reason or another, I was in-between lodgings and had nowhere to stay. A friend offered her bedroom floor. This friend shared a flat with the daughter of this woman, and this woman, was also the owner of the flat. Unfortunately for me, she happened to turn up, a couple of hours after I had arrived with my suitcase. No. It wasn't to be. Because no matter the circumstances, this woman made it clear, that sleeping on the floor wasn't an option, no matter how temporary, no matter how desperate. And, looking directly at me, she also made it clear that she would return later in the day ... To do what? To check I suppose. Forty years later I still remember her face. And sometimes I've wondered what she would have done had I still been there. Thrown me out on the street? I don't know because mostly when I think of her, I then think of all the people I have let sleep on my floor, or in my spare bed, wherever and whenever. In particular, the young people who have crossed my path and I've been able to help. And I think of the policy I have had with my own kids: their friends get to stay, always. And then I think of the young Polish couple, we helped a few years back. How the very low rent we charged them for living in a flat we owned, enabled them to save up quickly and buy their own place. (It was so low, they once asked if we wanted to raise it!) And then I think of the two lovely children they have now, and the new life they've made for themselves, here in Sweden. This woman shaped me and I'm grateful for it
The woman who posted a 10-minute yoga routine on Facebook a decade ago. At first I needed her, now I don't, which is a good job because the video has long since been taken down. She'll never know the effect she has had on my life, but I think of her every time I reach behind my back and undo my bra strap.
And most recent of all, the midlife blog, where I read this line. If you keep saying no to things, you're destined to a life of repetition. It's true isn't it? I've written about this before. We shrink physically and meta-physically as we age. Buying the same groceries, watching the same programmes, we're already in repeat mode. So, although I already knew, it was good to be reminded.
There you go. A celebration of the women who have had a profound affect on my life. We all have them, these moments, these lines, the faces that have stayed. I'd love to hear about yours. Comment below!
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Until next time,
Cary
Another beautiful essay Cary. I especially enjoyed #8. Oh how many life experiences can we review that have had lasting effect on what not to do in the future, or for the future? Could it be that the challenging times with difficult people have changed us for the better the most?
Lovely article Cary - I very much enjoy your writing. The normal and ordinary are definitely not celebrated enough and as you say affect most people far more.
Like you, I have shared a few pieces on the Postcards FB page (although was rapped on the knuckles last time for doing so!) and have recently started my own Substack too in an attempt to start disciplining myself to write something regularly! https://suzywilsonwrites.substack.com/