Recovering the Unpublished Writing of Cheri Villines, My Mother

My mom would have been 72 years old this week. She died early, and tragically, of a rare and aggressive dementia at the end of 2020. She wrote her entire life. And when she died, I began combing through her writings. I was struck by how similar the themes she and I explore are. I can’t believe motherhood has changed so little since the 1980s. It’s a poignant reminder of how pervasive patriarchy really is.

Her work will not die with her. I’ll be publishing her work here, and in honor of her birthday, here’s her first piece:

“Today was the first day back at school for my big second grader. We spent last evening putting her name on carefully chosen folders, admiring the intact new box of crayons and reading out loud the procedures for registration day. Before bed, she selected her outfit for the day and we laid out all the right accessories—Little Mermaid underwear, a hair bow, a treasured charm bracelet. We talked at length about her hopes and fears for the coming year, and I shared some fragmented memories from my own second grade year.

As I turned out the light, I was feeling pleased with how smoothly things were going, and how calmly she awaited this new year.

And then, somewhere in the night it thundered. It wasn’t even a very loud bang—just a friendly growl—but it was loud enough to bring my daughter out of her dreams to bolt upright yelling for help. I sat with her till her heart stopped racing, then agreed to stay a few more minutes to “cuddle me” while we made certain there was no more thunder to come. As I left her room for the second time that night, I murmured that well-worn mommy phrase, “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

To which she replied, “There is if you’re alone.”

I thought about her remark as I collapsed into bed next to her daddy, and again this morning as she climbed alone aboard the school bus. I’ve begun to reassess my view of children’s courage. My most frightening moments have occurred either when I was alone or when I was facing a never-before-encountered experience.

We frequently place our children in situations where they cannot choose their companions and are isolated from the comforting presence of friends or family. And they nearly always face new experiences on their own: the first swimming lesson, the tonsillectomy, the first school bus ride, etc. There is some irony in the fact that the littlest people in our families, who are most afraid of the night, are also the ones who spend their nights alone in their beds, while fearless grown-ups are allowed to take real people rather than teddy bears to bed with us.

My daughter is right: there is a lot to be afraid of when you’re alone. It takes courage to face those fears, and parents would do well to recognize how often their children are called upon to be brace. Next time I’ll change my tune from “There’s nothing to be afraid of” to “You’re very brave, but you can call me if you need me.”

She included this bio: Cheri Villines is a marriage and family therapist who left her career in community mental health services to stay at home with her children. The “Mommy Tracks” column will offer advice on and ruminations about parenting.