#herToo – Lillian E. Marcotte

2020 – Repost below – As I continued to write and remember my dad, my mother was always present. This originally was posted during the #meToo movement early days – hence, #hertoo. As I work through my depression recovery or adaption to (soon to be) my 5o’s, I think back often on my mom. It was known in family folklore that her mom suffered from a pretty server breakdown. I can recall days when my mom would stare out into nothingness- often with a deep sigh. I wish I could talk to her then with what I know now. I’d thank her more for holding her shit together and showing up for us, day after day, until the day she died. She made it through her dark clouds. I’ll make it through mine.

#hertoo – The story of my dad cannot be told without my mom, and indeed I have posts about her from my website that will go up during this trip. He loved her, but in re-reading his story/biography- I am struck by how much he both acknowledges her as the love of his life, but also undervalued her contributions in his writing. During the years he calls a fog (my childhood…) she was working in a factory and keeping the house together (with the help of my sisters #themtoo). I remember how proud she was to have achieved perfect attendance at work at a damn Tupperware plant.  


#hertoo – My mom took a lot of shit and smiled. My dad was a yeller. Her father was abusive and yet she took in that miserable old man and gave him a home and a place to die in peace. As women today are claiming their power and telling the stories we kept in the shadows of the past- a bright light of truth, accountability and rage anger now shines. My mom’s anger carried that truth. 

#hertoo – My mother’s kindness was her greatest power and gift.  Lillian never met a stranger she did not welcome as a friend or open her home and heart to. When she showed anger, which was extremely rare, she was a force to be noticed. I wish she had shown it more. I can count on my hands the times she was truly mad and showed it- a tool seldom used had a lasting impact. Perhaps she just let things roll off, or didn’t sweat the challenges: I just wish she could have experienced a time where she could stand up taller, stronger and more empowered.

Published by randymarcotte

Dreamer, entrepreneur, husband, marathoner (in the penguin league), uncle, friend. Enjoying today while always trying to brighten tomorrow.

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