They were the last words my mother said to me before she passed away, 25 years ago. I can still see her opening her eyes and slowly extending her hand, a weak smile lighting her face as she whispered those final words, "Put `em there pal!"
I guess if you didn't know my mother, you would think that was an odd thing to say just before dying. That was her style, to be direct and forthright -- Rose Criscenzo didn't mince words. Those four syllables were a gift that has carried me through some difficult times. I remember it like it happened yesterday, taking my mother's hand, savoring her precious approval and reassurance that she would always be there for me, that we were pals to the end - not the physical end, the endless end.
It was my mother, more than anyone else, who set my moral compass, not by what she said, but by what she did in her all-too-short lifetime. She taught me by example about courage and persistence and compassion. I learned from her actions that our family was much bigger than my nine brothers and sisters; that it included our community, our country and our world. I learned from her what it meant to live consciously.
It would have been so easy for Rose Criscenzo to have said, "I have my hands full just raising this brood of kids. I can't do anything more." But she never said that. I remember her going to visit women in our neighborhood when they were sick, bringing them a meal, nursing them, being there for them when they were forgotten by everyone else. She and my father taught Sunday school and were actively involved in our church, but it wasn't the catechism lessons that mattered, it was how they lived. It was in the sacrifices they made, in their priorities, in their unwavering integrity.
My mother taught me a lot about courage. She ran for the Board of Education when that wasn't something nice women did. And when she was on the Board she stood up to the good old boys, to do what was best for students and teachers. Those students she fought for are grandparents now, and probably have no idea how much flack my mother took on their behalf!
I have a photo of my mom here by my desk. It was taken when she was in Washington DC at the march to support the Equal Rights Amendment. I think she's smiling because she knew she was part of something that would change the world and make it better for her daughters and her granddaughters. The ERA amendment was never ratified but those thousands of women who came together there in Washington that day, set the course for the rights my daughter and nieces enjoy today.
I've inherited many gifts from my mother: her smile, her creativity, her passion and compassion. I learned from her life and I learned from her dying with courage and dignity. I remember sitting with her in those last hours, in a room lined with bookshelves. In the dim light I read the titles and authors imprinted on the spines. Her interests were varied and far reaching, from theology to gardening.
I often imagine my mother beside me now, as I was beside her during that long last watch. I often feel her smiling the way she is in the Washington photo, enjoying the adventure of my campaign and the continuation of her commitment to serving God through people. And occasionally, when I'm feeling overwhelmed by all that needs to be set right in our world, I feel her hand in mine and hear her final words, "Put `em there pal!" And I whisper back with gratitude, "Thanks Mom, I can do this with you beside me."
Happy Mothers Day to all the women who have, by their example, taught children to be honest and brave and compassionate human beings. You have my commitment to work to make their future safe and prosperous and you can help me do that in Congress by supporting my campaign. Go to www.DREAMofJEENIforCONGRESS.com to make a contribution and volunteer. I can do this with all of you beside me.