Patty

I met her today. She looks like a banker--you know the type. Too old to be the mother of a ten-year old, certainly. But the child is her adopted step-grandson. Step-daughter fell apart after a nasty divorce, got knocked up by some seedy boyfriend, didn't want the child, and asked Patty if she'd take him. So she did. Then her own marriage broke up, and she moved in with her 80-yr-old mother here in town, and at age 54 was a single mother with an infant and no job. Her family happens to be one of the founding families of this little town. Patty's a walking stress bomb.

She had many powerful things to say, but the ones that struck me most related to a thoroughly internalized sense that life plays out without her: that she lives solely to sustain her son--that she measures life in terms of her son's wellbeing, noting dispassionately at the exact same time that her own sense of belonging, of wellness, of fullness neither factor nor matter.

"Even when I was a child and it was my grandmother who was living in town and we’d come visit, I just loved the atmosphere. And as much as I feel excluded by it, you can feel the family involvement and the family values here, and I think it’s great for my son. Maybe it’s not quite so good for me, but the values and morals that I have—you can just feel them here. It’s a great place to live. It’s a wonderful, supportive community—not necessarily of single parents—but I think it’s a very friendly, community-oriented, safe place to live."

OK, OK, I get it. (And I promise I won't quote you that way.)

Tomorrow it's Carol and Mary Grace--one a perky divorcee from New York and the other a minister with two kids from China. Mary Grace is ready to slam the church staff, I can tell from a brief phone chat. Carol is the only single mom I know who's getting laid frequently. All the other single moms hate her, but they don't know why; she's so sunny and sweet.

It's fascinating.