I can't go back. The past won't go away in this family.
Frank MccourtRead
Love her as in childhood Through feeble, old and grey. For you’ll never miss a mother’s love Till she’s buried beneath the clay.
Interpretation
Cherish and appreciate your mother's love throughout her life, as it is truly irreplaceable.
This quote emphasizes the profound and often unappreciated love that a mother provides from childhood to the end of her life. It serves as a reminder to value and express love for one's mother while she is alive, as the absence of her nurturing presence will be deeply felt once she is gone.
In practice
At a family gathering, I shared this quote to remind everyone to cherish our mother's love.
I can't go back. The past won't go away in this family.
Sit and quiet yourself. Luxuriate in a certain memory and the details will come. Let the images flow. You'll be amazed at what will come out on paper. I'm still learning what it is about the past that I want to write. I don't worry about it. It will emerge. It will insist on being told.
Kids all want to look cool, as if knowledge is a great burden, but they're always looking around. They remember.
That's what kept us going - a sense of absurdity, rather than humor.
A mother's love is a blessing No matter where you roam. Keep her while you have her, You'll miss her when she's gone -- Angela's Ashes.
You might be poor, your shoes might be broken, but your mind is a palace.
The baby boomers owe a big debt of gratitude to the parents and grandparents - who we haven't given enough credit to anyway - for giving us another generation.
There is no word for feeling nostalgic about the future, but that's what a parent's tears often are, a nostalgia for something that has not yet occurred. They are the pain of hope, the helplessness of hope, and finally, the surrender to hope.
Along with the joy of parenthood, with every child comes a piercing vulnerability. It is at once sublime and terrifying
If I have done anything in life worth attention, I feel sure that I inherited the disposition from my mother.
This is a moment that I deeply wish my parents could have lived to share. My father would have enjoyed what you have so generously said of me-and my mother would have believed it.
My father’s family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip.
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