Advocate

Memories crumble and fade. We try to glue them back together and often fiction is fused with fact in the process. I am bad at remembering when, but I do remember what. I review these moments over and over, and over time they are molded into stories. Inspired by true events. This bothers me, but it is the nature of the thing. 

A story I have been coming back to lately is this. My sister and I were fighting again. We could be pretty terrible to each other. I have forgotten the empty purpose of the argument, but I remember Mom intervening. She said this, and I am paraphrasing, she said to me, she’s your sister, be her advocate. Then she turned to my sister and said, he’s your brother, be his advocate.

Be her advocate.

I don’t know if this is exactly what happened or exactly what was said, but the spirit of this memory has haunted me ever since. Yes, this is a lesson about family, yet the depth of this statement has only grown on me. Being an advocate is a selfless act. And now when I hear, love thy neighbor, Mom’s words echo in my mind. Be their advocate.

This charge strips away so much of the complexity of life. Is it so hard to stand up for your sister? Your friend? Your coworker? A stranger? Because this is our family after all. Your words challenge me every day, Mom. #HappyMothersDay