The Magic of Fighting Monsters

My mom died ten years ago today.

Each anniversary of her death, I take at least a few moments to celebrate her life. I offset memories of her profound late-life mental illness and slow succumbing to cancer with joyful memories of her.

I remember her meeting her first grandson–my oldest son–and rejoice that she lived long enough to meet one of her eight grandchildren.

My mom with my then tiny oldest son

I remember, too, the joy of being her daughter when I was a child.

I remember her reading with me and my siblings. I recall the sense of adventure we shared as books and comic books took us places we hardly noticed our poverty prevented us from visiting. 

I remember Thunder Thighs, her superhero alter-ego who battled villains with superpowers such as B.O. and the earthquake-sized reverberations created when she’d stomp for good with the might of her thunder thighs.

Thunder Thighs, as drawn by Sina Grace

I remember how much she loved horror movies, and how I loved trying to sneak-watch them with her.

It’s that last remembering that’s closest to my heart today. Thanks to immersive theater, which I once dismissed as simply one of my husband’s “hobbies,” I had the irreplaceable opportunity to connect with my mom as she’d once lived and breathed.

You can read more about that–and what else it has to do with today, specifically–here on No Proscenium.

One thought on “The Magic of Fighting Monsters

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