what money does and bravery

My father was blacklisted, but before that he'd worked at Justice as an attorney. My mother built a practice in D.C. as an OBGYN. She delivered babies and dealt with infertility and was amazing and beloved. Their life began in Washington, it was full of hope, and hope was all around then. FDR was president. They began in the throes of a depression but lived to see it ease; his policies were close enough to the socialism they believed in to comfort them. And of course war came, their relatives either fled or were murdered, they joined anti-fascist movements, they committed themselves to making a better world. And their own world grew exponentially. I look at photos of them and am amazed at the evident happiness. They had managed despite all obstacles; my mother had a booming practice and interesting patients, my father was a successful attorney, then Truman became president and the witch hunts began. He lost his job. He lost his self respect. My mother supported them. When he was finally hired, it meant leaving all they'd built to move back to New York City. For my father it was a new beginning, for my mother a new struggle. She endured, but never had the same affection for her work. She retired early and never complained about giving her career up, but I saw the effect it had on her. My siblings were out of the house, but I was there and I knew a very different woman from the one they grew up with. She was anxious, angry and chronically insecure. When I was very young I thought my mother was incredible, I wanted to be just like her. But as I grew older, I found her very different. It made me realize that giving up one's identity is a huge sacrifice.

Which brings me to Amelia and Muriel. They grew up in a household where money and lack of work became a huge issue. Their father moved from job to job, his alcoholism fueling his descent. Her mother's discontent was palpable, she left him once, then came back for a while and finally divorced him. Amelia and Muriel made their own way, with little money to back them. In Muriel's case I have a feeling this fueled a desire for stability, while in Amelia's . . .obviously the opposite. At the core of Amelia's character there is this willingness to try. She saw that control was an illusion. I'm not saying she wasn't afraid of death, I'm saying she was willing to face that fear in ways that most of us wouldn't.

I see her trying now, in my book. I love watching her do it, love watching her explore her options yet again, she threw off the traces then, would she do it given a second chance? Would she choose to soar, or would she have to address some of her regrets. Indeed, what would any of us do given that chance? There's my question for you out there, what would any of us really change? We like to say we would change a great deal, but I wonder if we would or if that's just Dickens calling, A Christmas Carol's conceit. It's brave to fly east to the dawn, but it's also brave to see yourself whole and wholly. To try and change who you are, that's bravery too. It may not be something the public cares about, but if you can do it, if you can change how you interact with someone you truly love, well that has to matter.