Once a mom…

You might have noticed I’ve been a bit quiet, and I apologize for not being a better correspondent.  Truth is, I thought I would have loads of extra time once the girls went to college, but it seems they need me now as much as they did when they were home. Lulu has been struggling with school, and finally made the decision to take a leave of absence and move back home. She’s got a part time job and she’s thinking about what’s next. Betsy, ever connected to her twin, has also gone through her own change of sorts and is switching her major to “something that will help animals.” Handling the Chronofact that her friend Pierre found has had a profound effect on her.  She’s been glued to the FutureCoast Twitter, following the reports, listening to the voicemails, and even spent some time looking for the lost Boston Chronofact.  She sends me links she finds on climate change and has joined several campus activist groups.  “It’s our future,” she reminds me often, “if we don’t do something, we’ll lose it all.” Now, I know I’m biased, being her mother and all, but it is deeply moving to see how committed she is to all this.  What started as a crazy obsession of her mom’s has turned into a calling for her, and she has never been more animated, more active, more ALIVE. She’s recruited Pierre to her cause as well, and seeing the two of them in action makes me feel like we’ve got a shot at changing things.  Some people might listen to those voicemails and feel defeated, like the problem is too large and too unwieldy for us to do anything about.  Not my Bets–she’s taking it as a call to action, a chance to educate herself and others and to think about and do things that could help turn the tide.  She asked me to pass this message on to you. Please understand what a big deal this is for her–she’s never been interested in performing or talking in front of any kind of audience, real or virtual, and even to do this quick video, she insisted that Pierre be there next to her for moral support. I am humbled by her passion.

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