My mom, born in 1943, left Detroit when she was 18 and moved to SF bc she was obsessed with the beats. She lived on Geary in a small apartment that my brother just by chance lived across the street from like 30 years later.

She moved back to Detroit when her dad died and then got ushered into family life, got married and had three kids. She described these years as a housewife as some of the worst of her life lol

My mom still dreamed of a “bohemian” artist lifestyle and started hanging out with an Italian woman and they started taking photos of buildings being demolished around Germany (where she lived with husband who had a good job in computers).

She eventually picked up the kids and moved back to Detroit where they lived in motels and in my aunts basement. My mom worked odd jobs in retail and enrolled in college in her mid 30’s at Wayne State to be an art teacher.

My siblings had a really hard childhood in this time (70’s), my sister remembers not being able to eat when she was hungry and they relied entirely on food stamps. My brother also turned to crime and drugs at around 13 to survive in the neighborhood.

My mom was the classic late bloomer student, focused, did all the readings and would copy her notes word for word every time she got home from class. For the first time she was able to intellectually flourish, Dostoevsky and Kafka were her favorite.

after getting her degree she got her credential & started teaching special ed. As legend goes once she shoveled snow to get her car out for an hour, went back inside, called in sick for two days and then put the kids in the car and moved them all the california.

In California they stayed with my grandma, my mom subbed and went to SF state to get her CA credential. My siblings thrived in the more alt environment of the Bay Area and turned into punks and club kids lol.

My mom (44) took a video class at community college to learn how to make art videos and my dad (27) was working in public access tv and into weirdo video art and was assisting the professor. They fell in love while making an anti nuclear/war protest video together.

Everyone who knew them said u couldn’t tell that there was an age gap bc of how youthful my mom looked and acted. Suddenly my 27 year old dad was a stepdad to teenagers aged 15-19. My dad was in a band and into experimental film,they loved him. I didn’t come till my mom was 47.

anyways, I loved my mom deeply. She was so incredibly cool, taught me to steal sunglasses by pretending to forget they were on my head, wore chokers from Claire’s in her 50’s with purple/black lipstick and chunky shoes, taught me to hate work and love leisure and art

There are tons of tapes where my dad (a musician) would play something and my mom (could barely carry a tune) would yell-sing and sheik lyrics about hating work and consumerism over his fuzzy guitar. I found one of her screaming a poem called “Let Nicaragua Be Nicaragua”

I think they thought they were john and yoko lol. But what I love about it is that they got so into their love they put it into everything they did. Even small things like their elaborate (and always topical) Halloween costumes. Though her fave holiday was of course April Fools.

She was also a tireless anti war activist, a fighter who was also nurturing. All of my girlfriends would go to her for advice about sex &love when they couldn’t go to their parents. She developed deep friendships w my dads friends & also all (I mean all) or her sons girlfriends.

She was also an amazing artist and teacher. She used to hold classes in the backyard about how to make mosaic mirrors for all her friends. Bc of her magmatism I got to grow up around a community of friends that always crowded the house.

I always admired her parenting style, her kids were integrated into her world, nothing was sacrificed. I miss how she would constantly change the color of every wall in the house. For a long time the bathroom was just covered in paint splat.

She didn’t care what anyone thought of her, even when I begged her to. And she had the amazing ability to find the humor in absolutely everything. The rest of the story is too fucking sad so I’ll leave it there but I’m just so proud to have been her daughter.