Like A Mother

A plastic square, a chip clip, and a flat tire

I bought myself a new tire for Mother’s Day.

I noticed the flat after I had pulled up in front of Mom’s house; we had just returned from the park with my son, and were going to get a quick bite before getting on the road for the 2.5 hour ride home.

“Hey Mom, does this look low to you? This … looks low…” I stood with my hands on my hips, comparing my front and rear tires.

“Oh, Shelly,” she said.

That’s never a good sign.

My son was born on Mother’s Day – which was the best gift ever, and means that a trip to Grandma’s house for Mother’s Day can double as a bonus birthday celebration.

But the dual celebration also means the week of Mother’s Day is typically frenetic with birthday preparations.

So there I was, staring at a screw in my tire (which wasn’t completely flat, but flat enough), fairly certain I was going to be staying an extra day. My mind was racing through my Monday calendar, gaming out how to make all of my meetings – and mentally running through how I would wrap presents, make and decorate a cake, decorate the house, get cupcakes for school… with one less day to make it all happen.

While I chewed my lip, Mom got on the phone. The chipper voice that she only uses when she’s really worried carried from the kitchen all the way out the front door.

“We’ll see you then!” She hung up the phone, triumphant.

For once, her AAA membership – that she’s considered cancelling a bunch of times – came in handy. Within a half hour, a local tow truck came by and Joe put the spare on for me. Joe was kind and tall with sparkling blue eyes and We The People tattoos up and down his arms.

Mom sent him on his way with a huge plate of double chocolate cookies and he showed his appreciation with a bear hug.

Small town hospitality.

As luck would have it, the town about 30 minutes away has a Firestone open on Sundays and could fit me in. When I arrived, the attendant told me that because they’re the only ones open on Sunday they only take walk-ins. Sunday is their “flat tire” day, he laughed.

We stared out the window as they worked on the tire; little bees buzzing around all of these cars, all of these stranded people.

When he came back inside he wasn’t laughing. He gave me the bad news; a screw had embedded in the tire, which would normally be fixable, but not this time. Something about tire integrity and black snow and a line along the tire that they showed me while looking very serious.

We all stood with our hands on our hips, shaking our heads.

With a few hundred miles to go, it was an easy decision to just buy a new tire. Jeff the Tire Tech said we’d be ready to head out in 15 minutes – minus a few hundred dollars. We’d swap money for time. A trade adults often make.

When we finally left the Firestone, I thought of this unexpected adventure, and how lucky I was to be back on the road, and Mother’s Day, and a chip clip, and a little square of webbing.

A gift from the S&E Ladies at Zion Lutheran Church

I may have gotten that screw embedded in my tire during the drive to my mother’s country church on Saturday night. When my son said he was interested in going to services, she darn near sprinted to get her car keys.

“You’ll love it,” she said. “It’s the most beautiful drive.”

As usual, she was right.

In the decades that mom has lived in that little town, I’ve never taken that road. It wound around pastures, dipped down into the little valleys. On either side was a patchwork of fields, opening to the sky. It wasn’t just scenic. It was cinematic.

I turned to tell my mom she was right – that this drive was worth taking – just in time to catch a glimpse of a cow, peacefully lounging in the tall grasses and watching the sunset. The haze from the late afternoon sun accentuated its ear fur. Insects buzzed around its head, little pinpricks of light.

And then we were over the hill.

The three of us arrived at the little church, nestled in the fields and overlooking the old graveyard. Not many come to Saturday evening services, mom had explained on the way.

Mom was right again – just seven other people showed up, so everyone got their own section of the church. The familiar smell of wood polish and hymnals nearly knocked me over with nostalgia when I opened the door. That’s when I realized it’s been around a decade since I’d been to church (many of us have complicated relationships with religion, do we not?).

Some things change, but some things remain.

At the end of the service, the pastor walked to the back of the church to greet everyone – which seemed an unnecessary formality considering there were only ten of us. But as we left and complimented him on the sermon, he pressed a little plastic baggie containing a Mother’s Day gift into our hands.

It was from the ladies’ auxiliary, he explained. Just a little something for the mothers.

Inside the baggie was a hand-sized square of white plastic webbing, with a hand-crocheted red hem. A chip clip held a little note typed on bright yellow paper:

Happy Mother’s Day! Get a grip on it and hold it together!

My mother nearly squealed. “Do you know what that is?” she asked, her eyes bright.

“I don’t – what is it?” I asked.

“It’s a gripper!” she said, taking hers out of the plastic bag to admire the stitching. “You can get anything open with one of these.” She paused. “Ooh. And a chip clip, too!”

The next day, after having our tire adventure and now officially On Our Way Home, my eyes landed on that baggie containing the small red and white square, the small chip clip, the little note.

Leave it to mothers, I thought, to give other mothers a way to crack open difficult things, and to hold things together.

Much of what we do as mothers is managing the unexpected – being prepared to be unprepared. Being strong so that we can be flexible; being tough so that we can be soft.

And so as I spent Mother’s Day driving down the highway, with my son sitting next to me in the front seat – his eyes closed and dreaming about what his birthday would look like – I thought about all of the mothers who have leaned into those attributes to create change in a broader, societal way.

There’s Candace Lightener, the founder of Mothers Against Drunk Driving. There’s Shannon Watts, founder of Moms Demand Action. There’s Lois Gibbs, who founded the Love Canal Homeowners Association (and the Center for Health, Environment, and Justice) and brought public attention to the environmental crisis in Love Canal. There’s Dawn Chapman and Karen Nickel, founders of Just Moms STL which advocates for the families who have been impacted by St. Louis’s radioactive past. There’s Elena Hung, founder of Little Lobbyists, which advocates for healthcare on behalf of medically fragile children…

There are more, of course. Many more.

Mothers who found themselves and their families in awful situations and who found a way to not just gather themselves, but to galvanize others.

Moms who carved a path for their loved ones and in doing so made life easier for everyone around them.

Moms who took their grief and suffering, composted it, and grew a garden to nourish the rest of us.

Moms who learned how to fight back, while lifting up.

As the miles ticked by on that two hour drive home, my eyes landed again on that little plastic square with the pretty crochet hem. My mind went back to Joe and his tattoos, to the cow in the field, to the smell of an old church home.

And my heart went back to my mom’s hug as I left her house, when she whispered into my ear – “It’ll be fine, Shelly. You’ll see. You’ll find a way. Love you, sweetheart.”

She may have been talking about a tire. But it felt like she was talking about a lot more.

Friend, let’s fight like a mother.

Let’s get to work.

Actions for the Week of May 13, 2025

Friend, things may be heavy – but you can lighten that load by doing something small – a “small deed” – to bring about the world that you want to see. In doing so we tell the world, the universe, our leaders – and most importantly, ourselves – that we will not go quietly into that good night.

I call it Action Therapy.

That’s why in each Tuesday post I share a few “small things” – usually a Small Thing to Read, a Small Event to Attend, and a Small Call to Make or Action to Take. My intention here is to give you actions you can tuck into your week with ease – and know that you’re doing something today to make tomorrow better.

Join me in doing so. It matters.

Small Things to Read: On Medicaid Cuts – From an Expert, and From Hawley

The proposed Medicaid cuts are out, and there’s a lot to process. Luckily for us, Bobby Kogan – the Sr. Director of Federal Budget Policy for the Center for American Progress – is ready to break it down. Check out his Blue Sky thread here:

Wondering what we can do to fight this? Well, Bobby has a thread on that too. Check that one out here:

And I don’t often agree with Missouri Senator Josh Hawley. But a broken clock is right twice a day, so I supposed Hawley is due.

Read his Op Ed in the NYT about cuts to medicaid here. (Gift link.)

Small Call to Make/Action to Take: Oppose Medicaid Cuts – H/T Matthew Cortland

Now that you’ve read a bit about the proposed Medicaid cuts, it’s time to start pushing back.

I’ll start, though, by recommending that you follow Matthew Cortland, who is one of the most dedicated and effective advocates out there. Follow him on BlueSky here and on Patreon here.

He has some excellent scripts to use for your elected officials – but also with your friends and family. Check it out here.

Small Event to Attend: Tonight Sister District + Mallory McMorrow; Thursday’s Blue Tennessee’s Monthly Meeting!

First, tonight at 7pm eastern Sister District is having a Fireside Chat: A Conversation with Mallory McMorrow to talk about her new book Hate Won’t Win: Find Your Power and Leave this place Better Than you Found It.

The conversation will be moderated by Sarah Curmi, Executive Director of Sister District. There will be ample time for audience Q&A.

Second, this Thursday at 6:30 central we’ve got our monthly Blue Tennessee meeting, and it’s going to be a great one. We’ll be joined by TN State Rep Aftyn Behn, who will give us an overview of the last legislative session, and by Professor Meghan Conley who will help us understand the impact of federal immigration policies on communities in Tennessee. No matter where you live, you’re welcome to join our meeting and our community. Here’s the link to register.

Thanks for reading, friend – I’m glad to see you here! You’re making a difference, I promise.

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