Today is my mother's birthday. She
would have been seventy-six, if she hadn't died nearly twenty years
ago, several months after my first child's birth.
In commemoration, I'd like to discuss what parents and supportive relatives try to do.
In commemoration, I'd like to discuss what parents and supportive relatives try to do.
Shakespeare's play Cymbeline is
tragedy, and there's lots to be had. Cymbeline's wife dies, one of
his sons die, and the mighty Roman empire threatens to take over
Cymbeline's kingdom. When Posthumus Leonatus is banished for daring
to marry the princess Imogene, then is imprisoned for murder. About
to be executed by his enemies, the ghosts of his parents visit him,
and begin to rebuke the Roman gods Jupiter and Juno for giving their
son such poor treatment in life. Their dialog follows:
No more, thou thunder-master, show
Thy spite on mortal flies:
With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,
That thy adulteries
Rates and revenges.
Hath my poor boy done aught but well,
Whose face I never saw?
I died whilst in the womb he stay'd
Attending nature's law:
Whose father then, as men report
Thou orphans' father art,
Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him
From this earth-vexing smart.
Posthumus' father Sicilius scolds Jupiter, the king of the gods, for neglecting the care of Posthumus from the evils of the world, and not protecting him. Posthumus' mother, who died in childbirth, then rebukes Lucina, or Juno, the queen of the gods, with the following:Mother
Lucina lent not me her aid,Sicilius Leonatus
But took me in my throes;
That from me was Posthumus ript,
Came crying 'mongst his foes,
A thing of pity!
Great nature, like his ancestry,
Moulded the stuff so fair,
That he deserved the praise o' the world,
As great Sicilius' heir.
Sicilius, as any loving father, praises his son's capacities for greatness, and continues to scold Jupiter.First Brother
When once he was mature for man,
In Britain where was he
That could stand up his parallel;
Or fruitful object be
In eye of Imogen, that best
Could deem his dignity?
Posthumus, previous to this time, had an excellent character, enough to win a princess' heart.
Like Posthumus' parents, ours,
generation after generation, plead with God for mercy on their
children, as they watch the suffering they experience in life. Isn't
this what parents and children, and aunts, uncles, grandparents, and
families are for? To root for the coming generations to have a better
chance, and to be more happy than the parents' generation?
This reflects thoughts my mother, and
her ancestors may have had. I know she definitely pulled for us, her
children, working, praying, and trying to help us succeed.
Happy Birthday Mom!
