A story my mom told me about her childhood, about her mother, my Grandmother, that relates to racial problems. Both are gone, now, but still well loved, but what mom had to say was very powerful.

Yesterday, we gathered at my brother's house for a Thanksiving feast. My two nephews, 6 and 2 1/2, brightened the rainy day with their joy and energy, but a melancholy lingered, because it was our first Thanksgiving with my mother, my star, gone, departed this mortal coil. She loved Thanksgiving, and though we were thankful to be together, we missed her. The background music for our Thanksgiving feast would most certainly have been in a minor key.

When I got home last night after that bountiful feast, thinking of my mother, I realized that many of my tears were for my mother the grandmother. Her grandchildren were the light of her life, and now that she's gone I'm especially grateful for the great comfort and deep joy that they bring to my father. I miss my mother and I miss that she can no longer play with her grandsons, and teach them and learn from them, love them and be loved by them.

LOOKING FOR 1000 GRANDMOTHERS TO CLOSE THE SCHOOL OF THE AMERICAS

1000 Grandmothers

November 17-19, 2006

Greetings Grandmothers and Grandmother-Supporters!

It now appears that the next inspirational rallying point may be emerging from the borough of Manhattan. Yesterday 16 grandmothers, accused of blocking the doorway of the armed forces recruiting station in Times Square, appeared in State Supreme Court. A 17th member did not appear, but did provide a doctor's note asking that she be excused because of a hip replacement. They call themselves the Antiwar Grandmothers, and they are not going away quietly. King George should be very afraid.