Margie's role in life

Margie was talking about her three remarkable children today, how much she admires them. “And they came from utter poverty,” she said, “because their father was a cab driver, and he made so little money.”

Gently, lovingly, I reminded her that it was HER father who was a cab driver. She grew up in poverty, with a mother who was always bitter because they couldn’t move out of that tenement in the Bronx.

“Oh,” Margie laughed, “right. That was my father. But then who was my children’s father?”

I reminded her who her husband was, and that after he took up with another woman and left her and the children, she went to college, earned a Master of Social Work degree, moved to California, gave her children a middle-class life, and sent them all to university.

“I did that?” 

You did that. 

“But, but…. Why don’t I remember that? Was I really a good mother? And what is my role now?”

You really were a wonderful mother, Margie. What do you think is your role now?

She thought for a long while, almost gave up, almost forgot the question, but then found her answer. She pointed her finger at the sky and told me, “To love them. To tell them they’re wonderful. To be grateful. I can do that. I can't do much else, but I can do that. They’re grown, and my job is to tell them how proud I am of all they’ve done. I love my job!”