Celebrating Mom

Our mother was a gift giver, a consistent, enthusiastic gift giver. Maybe you knew this about her, maybe you didn’t. But for as long as I can remember, Mom went out of her way to give special gifts to myself and my sisters on birthdays, holidays, and the regular days in between. Many of these gifts were material – Nintendo consoles, Doodle Bears, roller blades, Hanson CDs, and our annual “you’re going to need this later” Christmas stocking full of socks, hair ties, toothbrushes, and, ironically, roll after roll of Lifesavers Hard Candies. But more often than not, the gifts Mom gave us came in the form of lessons learned and the example she lived for us and now has left with and to us.

Today I want to honor Mom’s memory by sharing some of those gifts with you all.

Throughout our childhoods, Mom taught us to value our families (especially our siblings), to love and appreciate music and National Public Radio, to recognize and respect educational opportunity and to work hard to excel academically, to take time to listen to the stories of our Aunt G and grandparents, and to be truly kind to all we meet, looking others in the eye, offering them a firm handshake and her famous greeting of, “It’s so nice to know you.”

      

Mom taught us to do to the simple things like tie our shoes, braid our hair (although Ally and Shelby excelled more in this area than I), to keep our spaces clean and tidy (none of us excelled in this area), and to have gratitude for the blessings of home and security that we had been given. She opened our homes to friends, let the living room become a Friday-night bed-sheet fort, and crawled right in with us to play and just be.

Mom taught us to be creative without regard for whether it was “right” or not. She taught us to read and encouraged us to use our imaginations and to dream. She scratched our backs when we couldn’t sleep and sang us both into the night and up with the dawn each morning. Her favorite morning song when I was a child, I now realize, was more or less a weary young mother’s plea, “Eva, don’t be grumpy. Let’s have a real fun day.”

 

Mom let us be who we were. If you look at photographs from 1992 – on, you will certainly see that she let us dress ourselves, for better or worse, and she encouraged us to own our individuality.

Of course, we all know that Mom gave us the gift of contagious laughter. When I couldn’t find her after church services here at FBC Cornelia, I’d just hang out in the hallway until I heard her laughter echoing somewhere in the building and follow it straight to her.

One thing I’ve been reflecting on in the past few days is just how many people remember Mom for her laugh. It is comforting to think of the great amount of joy that Mom put into the world just by laughing in her own special way.

(BREATHE. YOU ARE DOING GREAT. IT’S ALL FOR MOM.)

Mom taught us to work hard and showed us the value of loving your work, often taking us to meetings at the printers in Mobile or with her to staff the convention hall at CBF General Assemblies across the southeast. One thing that will always stick with me is the way Mom lit up when interacting with her coworkers. She brought this wonderful mix of sincerity and humor to her work and work relationships that made her so fun to be around and brought out even more of the outrageous and hilarious sides of her coworkers.

Ally, Shelby, and I made lasting friendships with her CBF community, hanging out in her office on “sick” days, often setting up our own VHS entertainment center in the CBF conference room complete with snacks, movies, and the occasional staffer on break who decided to join in on the fun. Mom’s willingness to let us participate in her work gave us ownership over a movement and a sense of belonging in a greater faith community that I know each of us will carry with us throughout our lifetimes.

 

Mom gave us the gift of a deep and real faith. A faith that valued asking questions just as much as accepting doctrine. A faith that required service to others. A faith that she challenged us to accept for ourselves. A faith that has carried us through to today.

 

It’s difficult to narrow down all of the gifts Mom gave us in our younger days, because my mind keeps coming back to the gifts Mom gave us throughout the last eight months as we walked with her through treatments for her cancer. I could go on and on about her strength and courage, her will to protect me and my sisters from the pain of realizing how dire her illness was, the kindness she showed nurses and doctors, the grace with which she accepted hard news, and the sheer determination that kept her living well beyond anyone’s expectations, but I just want to share the greatest gift she gave us – her love.

Mom shared her love in so many ways, through so many varied gifts of her spirit. But one gift stands out in particular. Last Christmas, Mom slipped this small children’s book into our Christmas tree for all of us to find on Christmas morning. The book is called, “You Are God’s Gift to Me.” In it, Mom wrote a prophetic message that says more than I ever could about her love. It reads:

(REALLY BREATHE)

To my 3 Amazing Daughters,

This tiny book says so much of the way I feel for you. When you look back at Christmas 2012, I hope you’ll remember and you’ll feel that you were loved well and will be forever. I love you more.

-Mom

Journeying through Cancer: Lessons on my Twenty-Something-Ness

In February our family lived the colloquial saying "everything can change in a split second" as we listened to an ER doctor tell us that Mom's pestering digestive issues were really advanced-stage cancerous tumors. While I remained composed within the hospital walls, I wept on the curb next to a line of ambulances as the weight of the unknown changes that were to come crashed upon me, truly believing that the day could have swallowed me whole right then and there.

It's June now. I can hardly believe it. In four months the laundry list of changes, challenges, and joys our family has endured continues to grow ever longer: Jobs left. Apartments emptied. New homes rented. Old home filled again. New oncologists and chemo nurses. Birthdays. Weight lost. Weight gained. Graduations. Pulmonary embolism. Prayer, prayer, and more prayer. Insurance companies. Bills. Old friendships restored. New friendships revealed. Nurse after nurse after nurse. Hospitals. Funerals. Smoothies. Tears, lots of tears. New careers. Unknown futures. Meals delivered. Deluges of hugs, sincere hugs. Fear. Faith. Selfless gifts. Lessons in humility and gratitude. Songs of praise raised straight from our hearts. Clarity. Confusion. Emptiness. Shots, two a day. Anxiety. Trust. Tumors shrinking. Pain. Determination. LOVE, the constant and enduring love of Christ and family.

Shel, Al, Mom, and Me at Ally's Graduation, 5/11/13

One things is certain about this journey through cancer, our family is stronger in faith, hope, and love from weathering the changes and chances of health and this world.

As for myself, I'm learning more than a few personal lessons as a 26 year-old young professional turned stay-at-home daughter and full-time caregiver, and while I would trade them instantly for Mom's renewed health, these lessons are more powerful, more real-life than any I could have learned through grad school, traveling the world, or working for change in others' lives.

I recently watched a TED talk on how your 30's are not your 20's. I sat in my childhood bedroom, greasy from being too busy to clean myself up, feeling like this lady was preaching straight to me. The gist of her message was that twenty-somethings needed to realize that the 30-40 decade is too late to build a family, begin a career, know yourself, run that marathon you've said you'd always run, etc. "Act now," she told me. "Get off your ass and build your identity capital." "But I am!," I practically yelled back. I may not have changed out of my workout clothes today (even though I didn't get around to working out) or applied for career-track jobs or been married already or had my first child or built that savings account and Roth IRA or run in days, but I'm doing good work all day, every day. 

I got up, resolved to be content with the newness of our life with cancer. I couldn't shake her though. For days afterward I beat myself up about not being bi-lingual, not having earned an MA in History so I could, you know, be qualified for teaching jobs, for not having a steady salary, for growing a little squishy in the past few months, for not getting into a PhD program, and for not really having a good answer when people asked me what I wanted to do in addition to running our household, loving my Mom and sisters, cleaning, cooking, grocery shopping, doing laundry and yard work, paying and filing bills, greeting visitors, driving to and from doctor's visits, laughing at Ellen every afternoon, and kissing Mom good night every evening hoping that I had done the absolute best I could for her spiritual and physical well-being that day. 

After a few days of ruminating about my current twenty-something-ness compared to TED talk lady twenty-something-dreamland, I concluded that my identity capital is through the roof at this very moment. My CV may not be filled with new, mind-blowing publications and presentations. My starting salary may not be growing. I'm not a member of any new professional and civic societies. I haven't showered in days. Happy hour networking for me is talking with Shelby about the day over half-and-half sweet tea. I don't have any concrete plans for life beyond loving, nurturing, and caring for the woman who loved, nurtured, and cared for me selflessly since 1987. Let me tell you something, I've never been more at peace with myself than I am today.

(Now before the pragmatic minds freak out, I am looking for work and am staying connected in my professional networks. Kathryn and I spend quality time together. I take care of myself, physically and emotionally. I know what unhealthy caregiving looks like, and I am careful not to cross that line. I take breaks. I enjoy weekends with friends. All that good stuff is happening, too.)

But the root of this post is that in February, I wasn't sure I could handle what was coming. In June, I know I am exactly where I am supposed to be, and my heart is filled with peace.

Speaking the Truth about Living in Love

I have been awed to tears by the displays of support for legal marriage equality this week. Similarly, I have been humbled by reading the carefully-worded beliefs of those whose interpretation of scripture and lived experience tell them otherwise. Some have written that they hate the sin and love the sinner; that they speak their truths through lenses of love; that one does not have to agree with another’s sinful lifestyle to love and support them as people. All fair. Now I want to add my perspective on the matter while the dialogue is hot and speak my truth about living not in sin, but in love.

I knew before I even met Kathryn Kendrick in person that I had met the one. I was right. Over the last two years, we’ve built a life on a strong foundation of love, faith, and covenant.

Our relationship is in no way defined by immorality, but by the covenant of love that we have made to one another and is blessed by our families, friends, and faith communities.

When my mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer last month, Kathryn was there both as my partner and as a family member. At Kathryn’s grandfather’s funeral yesterday, I stood with the family the same as any other “in-law.” We pay bills together. We pray together. We love the other’s families, and they love us. We share an address and closet space, which obviously means we know how to compromise. We try to pass off the dog-walking responsibilities to the other on cold mornings. We argue about normal things, like whether or not to buy the more expensive cereal with the fancy granola clusters over the corn flakes. We cry at sentimental commercials. We love long dinners with friends. I am passionate about college football, Kathryn isn’t. Kathryn can make beautiful art out of anything, I appreciate it. We celebrate small victories. We run out of toilet paper. We dance in our dining room. We stand in awe of the majesty of God’s world and do our best everyday to walk hand-in-hand through life with a spirit of peace, reverence, and joy for the beauty of it all.

We live in love.

This is our “lifestyle.”

No vote or law or scripture will change the love and joy that we share in our life together, but it sure would be nice to have some of those 1,138 federal benefits and to know that at the end of this life, whenever that is, I can sit with Kathryn, hand-in-hand, and know that we lived in love, legally.

Amede Ardoin : The Father of Louisiana French Blues

Amede Ardoin is hailed as "the pioneer of Louisiana French Blues" on the 1995 Ahoolie-released album I'm Never Comin' Back: The Roots of Zydeco. Born March 11, 1898, Ardoin was a Creole musician from the Acadiana region of Louisiana, known for his high, unique singing voice and adeptness with the Diatonic accordion, also called a squeeze box or Cajun accordion.

Amede Ardoin circa 1912


Roots of Zydeco: Early Louisiana French Blues

• Creole and Cajun music both evolved in the southwest region of Louisiana throughout the 18th and 19th centuries. The area was settled in 1764 by Acadians (later shortened to 'Cajuns'), a French-speaking group of Canadian exiles, and in post-Civil War years, by Creoles - French-speaking ex-slaves and free persons of color who had, over the years, mixed with Haitians, American Indians, Spanish, and French.

• In early Cajun and Creole families, like the Ardoins, singing was a tradition that passed from one generation to another through house songs and dance music. Their repertoire of songs consisted of solo narrative ballads sung by mothers to their children, as well as those sung by men to one another in a working or post-work relaxation environment.

• This regionally-specific music often served as a cultural history lesson depicting the origins and hardships of Cajun and Creole culture. They were always sung in broken French language, and were played by a solo artist or group of musicians featuring two primary instruments: the fiddle and the accordion.

(left to right: Canray Fontenot and Bois Sec Ardoin, Amede's nephew, on the fiddle and accordion)


Amede Ardoin and the Blues Accordion

• The Diatonic accordion came to Louisiana from Germany. It is now such a vital part of Cajun music that many accordion builders are established in southwest Louisiana. In Amede Ardoin's heyday, the sought after brands were the Monarch and Sterling accordions, which were solid black with 'gold' keys.

• The accordion is small and lightweight ( 6" x 11" and 8 lbs.), and full of power. This was an important feature in its rise to prominence in the dance hall scene of southwest Louisiana before the days of electric amplification.

• According to Barry Jean Ancelet, the accordion's brash sound expressed the frontier character of Cajun culture. The simplicity of the accordion also tended to restrict and simplify the tunes. Musicians ran with this, and adapted old songs to create new one featuring the accordion's unique sounds.

• No one did this better than Amede Ardoin, who created songs with a highly syncopated accordion style. Ardoin is also credited for infusing the blues into Cajun music. To this end, Joel Savoy, a neighbor of Ardoin's remembers:

I would see him walking down our road all the time, visiting, playing dances. He carried his accordion in a twenty-five pound flour sack with a goose and wolf on it. People would feed him. One of my uncles, Adam Young, brought him to my house once and he played the accordion right in my kitchen. That was in around 1928 and 1930. He'd sleep at my uncle's house when my uncle would get him to play. Amede had a certain way of playing - nobody else played like that, and people would copy him. When he played he always put a towel on his knee. The bellows were made out of paper and he would have torn them up. I remember he always played a Monarch or Sterling. Those were his favorite instruments. (Savoy, 67)





Cutting the Deal: Amede Ardoin and the Record Industry

Cover of the 1995 Ahoolie Records-released collection of 26 of Ardoin's 34 recorded songs.

• Ardoin and Dennis McGee recorded the 26 songs included on the aforementioned collection over the course of four years and three trips:

#1 - 10: New Orleans - November 19 & 20, 1930
#11 - 14: San Antonio - August 8, 1934
#15 - 26: New York City - December 22, 1934


The Complete Works of Amede Ardoin with Dennis McGee, released March 1, 2011.

Cajun and Zydeco music would not be what it is today without Amede Ardoin and his musical recordings of the late 1920s and early 30s. his fortes include his uniquely eloquent lyrics, his resonating voice, and his driving accordion virtuosity. The equanimity in which this slight black French-speak composed, performed, and recorded his songs attests to the high regard held by those who knew him. Amede lived the blues and injected his spirit into our music. Without him we would not have the dozen or so songs Iry Lejeune interpreted and recorded in the 1950s that helped to bring about a resurgence of Cajun French pride. (Michael Doucet, Ahoolie Records)


The Tragic End of Amede Ardoin

Amede would sing anything he wanted. His voice would go through you. He could play some music, every woman in the dancehall would cry. They'd stop dancing. Sat down and wipe the tears. Oh yes sir, he would make women cry, and the men would hang their heads down. Daddy said, 'He puts it to them.' Amede used to say, 'Well, I'm singing about the facts of life.' And when he'd mix a little bit of the religious stuff with it, these women would cry like babies. (Tisserand, 60 - 61)

Happy Eva Walton Birthday Week to Me!

Ladies and gentlemen, drum roll please...

The most excellent Eva Walton Birthday Week is HERE! And good lord, it's looking mighty exciting.

Aside from the obvious best part of this week - which is the fact that I turn 24 and ready for more on Thursday - there are SO many other wonderful occasions to celebrate this week.

The first, and probably the one I'm most excited for is that my girl, Gwynnie P, is coming back to reprise her role as Holly Holiday on Glee!

G.P. is shaking things up this week as the substitute for McKinley High's sex ed program. I love Gwyneth. I love her look, her kids' names, and even her singing voice - which I think I like because it's just normal. I also love what she did here with Joan Jett, Brittany and Santana:



Remember - everybody's got a random.

One last oober-excited-can't-wait-for-tomorrow's-episode-Glee-freak-out-must-share-video:

Holly Holiday, Santana, and Brittany singing Stevie Nix. This has the makings to be my favorite episode of all-time:



I'll be listening to this song on repeat for at least the next month. Guaranteed.

Glee is not the only highlight of Tuesday. Not even close.

I've heard there's a killer Glee after-party (also known as a birthday party) for me and my fellow Gleeks - future Governor of Mississippi, R. Brian Wilson, and the renowned, prestigious and soon-to-be-UNC Chapel Hill-published, Dr. William Hustwit.

If you know the first thing about any of us, then you know that for obvious reasons, the theme of the party is "Team America, (expletive) Yeah!"


I can rest assured that I'm one of the best Americans I know. As for Brian and Will, they're fine patriots. I'm hoping the party begins with a full-party salute, "We pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the wild ruckus for which it stands." I'm going to make it happen. Why? Because it's my birthday.

If Tuesday weren't already mind-blowingly awesome, it also happens to be FAT TUESDAY!


Happy Mardi Gras, my favorite family holiday! All I have to say about all of this wonder wrapped up in one twenty four-hour package is "Laissez the bon temps rouler! Time to PARTY GRAS! Huzzah!" I cannot wait to get home to my Mama's etouffe and homemade beignets. Just put me away now.

Lest you forget, this is all the joy for Tuesday alone! The week only gets better when I get to go home for my birthday to see my family! Ally and her boyfriend, Zach, are going to be home too for a weekend of good times, great food, and wonderful memories. From what Mama's told me about what she's already preparing, I know we're going to all be in high Mardi Gras Heaven!

I'm seriously too excited about this coming week to sleep. I hope you have a wonderful Eva Walton Birthday week as well!

Just a little Mardi Gras tune to keep you dancing:



WOOOOO!

Someone Like You

It's rare that an artist bursts on the music scene (when I'm paying attention) whose lyrics are so killer that I listen to the songs on repeat, all-day, everyday, for days at a time, just so I can really register the words.

Adele did it though. Over and over and over again. If you don't know Adele, here's all you need to know:



She's so many of my favorite things: British, soulful, a rockin' voice, and a poet. I can just tell that she's one of my kind of people.

She just released her new album, 21, a couple of weeks ago, and she's number one on the Billboard Charts in like, 17 countries or something. Crazy awesome.

But one of the songs on her album, just reached out of my computer screen, grabbed my little wounded heart, ripped it out, threw it around like a hot potato, stuck it with a voodoo pin, and gave it back. Thanks, Adele.

Seriously, the song, Someone Like You, speaks heartbreak in more raw, poetic words than even I could ... and I'm pretty good at making heartbreak sound good.

Take a listen:



If you didn't revisit your greatest heartache, then you must have really moved on. Good for you. I hate you a little bit. But I just had to share this song because I love finding artists who create music that resonates with me on more than a "catchy, that was a fun song" kind of way. And Adele definitely does that.

Buy her album! Support good music!

Friday Frenzy (Episode 2...on Saturday)

As usual, I have only one man on the mind this weekend. His name is Oscar. We have a date for Sunday night.

I think there might be a few other people joining us. Maybe Annette Bening, Colin Firth, Natalie Portman, and Javier Bardem. Just my usual groupies.

Seriously though, this Sunday night is the 83rd Academy Awards on ABC 8 e/5p.


My adoration for all things Oscar can best be explained by admitting that when I recorded things on VHS, back in the 1900's, I regularly had 'OSCARS' scrawled in Sharpie across a row of tapes.

One of the highlights of my childhood was watching Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, and all the other insignificant people from 'Titanic,' accept the Oscar for Best Picture in 1998. I'm pretty sure the eleven year-old history nerd Eva squealed with delight, and may or may not have cried a little.

In the spirit of all things gold-naked man-statue, I thought it would be fun to take a look at some memorable Oscar moments throughout the years - BUT - Oscar, the grouch, doesn't let you embed his treasured YouTube videos. Stupid.

So plan B - I'll give you my two cents on who/what the winner should be for the top 3 categories: Best Picture, Actor in a Leading Role, and Actress in a Leading Role.

Actress in a Leading Role:

Helen Mirren.



Okay, you caught me. She's not even nominated. I just love her so much. I want to be her when I'm 65, Emma Thompson when I'm 45, and Kate Middleton right now. I have a thing for wanting to be British.

But seriously, this year's nominees are...

Annette Bening - The Kids Are All Right
Natalie Portman - Black Swan
Nicole Kidman - Rabbit Hole (seriously?)
Jennifer Lawrence - Winter's Bone (and again...seriously?)
Michelle Williams - Blue Valentine

Picking a winner in this category is tough because of all the films, I've only seen "The Kids Are All Right." I've read articles about how Natalie Portman's preparation and dance training for "Black Swan" role nearly killed her - so that warrants merit. I'm just going to take out Nicole and Jennifer because those movies have weird names. As for my girl, Michelle Williams...bless 'em, I've seen the previews for "Blue Valentine," read a number of reviews of her performance, and from what I can gather, she killed the role.

So...it comes down to three: Annie, Nat, and Mick...

And Eva's winner is....


My home slice, Annie B. She was the stand-out cast member of this film - which was great, but I have mixed feelings towards the whole plot. Regardless, Annette broke my heart, made me wince, made me cry, made me laugh, and made me believe in her genius once more. Once more implies that I have found her brilliant before - and I have, as the ever-awesome, Sidney Ellen Wade of Virginia.


I'm pretty sure from the moment I watched "The American President" with my mom, I wanted to be Annette Bening. So it's only right that my allegiance remains with one of my favorite President's girlfriend.

Actor in a Leading Role:

The nominees are:
Colin Firth - The King's Speech
James Franco - 127 Hours
Jesse Eisenberg - The Social Network
Jeff Bridges - True Grit (s)
Javier Bardem - Biutiful (someone's script editor missed something here...)


Two words: COLIN FIRTH. ohmygod. Have you seen "The King's Speech?" If you haven't, I'll tell you more about how it's life changing later in the blog. But as for Mr. Darcy, he is my absolute favorite actor of all time. Without a doubt. The man is one of the most gifted and empathetic performers I have ever watched on screen. I knew I loved Colin when he played Mr. Darcy. I fell in love again (through tears) when he learned Portuguese to ask Aurelia to marry him in "Love Actually." He broke my heart in "A Single Man." Built it back up again in "Nanny McPhee." Caught me by surprise in "What a Girl Wants." And took my breath away in "The King's Speech." My bet is it's only a matter of a few years until the man is knighted. So to you, (future) Sir Colin Firth - I bestow you with an Eva Oscar. Congrats.

Best Picture:

Yes, there are MANY nominees:

Black Swan - "Where's my good girl? AHHHHH."
The Fighter - I love Christian Bale. And Mark Wahlberg.
Inception - Is this real life?
The Kids Are All Right - Their son's name is Laser - win.
The King's Speech - My heart just skipped a beat.
127 Hours - Takes the whole "break a limb" adage to a completely different level.
The Social Network - I quite Facebook.
Toy Story 3 - Are you just happy to see me or "is that a snake in my boot?!"
True Grit (s) - I like cheese in mine.
Winter's Bone - Weird.

Phew. I'm winded from typing.

My winner is without a doubt: THE KING'S SPEECH.



I saw this film in the theater alone - I only go to movies alone when I know it's going to be an emotional, life-changing experience for me. Colin, Helena, and Geoffrey did not disappoint.

I'm actually so full of admiration for the script, soundtrack, cast, special effects team, videographers, etc. that I am at a complete loss for the adequate words to express how awesome this film was.

Here's what I can say - my favorite thing about the film is that this is the Queen's dad we're talking about here. I love the idea that Queen Elizabeth lived long enough to see her dad's story of perseverance against all obstacles - a crippling stammer, an over-bearing father, a love-struck brother, and you know, trying to keep a country together during WW II - play out for the world to see. What better way to see your father honored than to have Colin Firth deliver one of the greatest screen performances of all-time? Not to mention, Helena Bonham Carter played your mom. Queen Elizabeth, I'm talking to you. I cried just thinking about what this film must mean to the Royal Family (my people...you know).

I love it! LOVE IT! You should get up from whatever you're doing this instant and go see the film.

Okay, Eva's Oscars have now been distributed.

We'll see how I do compared to tomorrow's awards. I'll be watching, and hope you will, too!

GO COLIN, GO!