A balanced equation.

I got a B- in AP Chemistry when I was 15. This is the lowest grade I got in all of high school; that’s sounding like I’m a braggart, but really, that detail there gets at the heart of the matter. The protagonist of this short-my mother, my beautiful and brilliant and extraordinary mamma-she’s a chemist. She used to work in a lab. A chemistry lab. And it’s here, in her handling of chemistry being the nadir of my academic career, that the mindfulness and grace that she adds to the workings of the world, is on full display. She didn’t find my struggle with the subject to be either irritating or amusing; she found it curious more than anything, because, while awkward was my brand in all the years of my life numbered 7 on thru to 17, school was my time to shine; and I excelled in sciences up to that point. My AP Bio teacher from my class the year prior, was, and to this day, remains, my favorite teacher of any subject, at any level.

But there, I was flailing about in Mr. Kelly’s Chemistry class, to the point where he kicked me out of the classroom more than once.

So, at the kitchen counter, with mugs of tea, and much determination, we poured ourselves into the endeavor; I needed to understand Chemistry and she held that knowledge. The periodic table of elements; atomic particles; electron states of atoms; chemical reactions; fission and fusion and radioactive decay- we delved into each and dispatched them with method and precision, as a good chemist is apt to do. But there was a stumbling block, an achiles heel, and the defining characteristic of Mr. Kelly’s curriculum-balancing chemical equations. Oof. I could not grasp the strategy or practical application of this process, and my mamma, for her part, was exasperated. Not with me, with the inclusion of this process in the lesson plan. The concept of it is simple enough: Add coefficients to equalize the number of atoms on both sides of the arrow. But in practice it is overwhelming, and according to my mother, the chemist, an outdated concept never applied in chemistry as it is practiced. Despite this, we worked at it, not because it would be a useful life skill for me, or anyone really, but because it was gonna be there on the exam, every time. And every time I made a mistake someplace.

It was absurd to me, and confounding to my mamma; she tried to help me through it, we balanced equations for three straight hours once, en route to a Pearl Jam concert in Hartford. To no avail, I just barely managed the low end of a B. My mother never lost patience though. Not once. She didn’t chastise or chide, instead she commiserated with me, and to this day agrees with me that the man was teaching the thing improperly.

It’s who she is to the core; she is gentle and genuine, and she will never fail you. I have not once in my whole hectic life, felt alone; not in my quest for a better mark in chemistry class, not in my battles with the behemoths of mental illness, not as a single mother, and not as a woman, still trying to define my version of feminism to stand as an example for my own girls.

My mother is quietly powerful as she moves through the world. She retired just ahead of this pandemic that laid us all flat, and I was grateful, that she was safe at home; but in the end, as is always the case, she looked after me, looked after all of us; she kept us sane. She kept us future-minded, and she did it with love and fortitude. She is the source of balance in our family equation. And here we all are; we survived intact, made it to vaccination, we owe that to her largely. As we owe deep gratitude for the profound bravery she has shown and shared with us in everything always. I’ve never known any other person to have such a subtle strength guiding their actions as they take on the world, challenge by challenge, with absolute competence and excellence. Gosh, I hope this is a genetic trait, and that I’ve inherited it, applied it, and passed it on to my daughters. If it’s not a gene, or if it is, I will dedicate my motherhood to living my life as a reflection of my mother’s grace and character.