Kathleen C. O'Shaughnessy

is honored with a Medium Bench from Molly O'Shaughnessy.

Every time I draw a line, I think of my Mom.
...striking an item from my "To-Do" list,
...filling the space after the pennies on the checks I write,
...dividing one entry from another in my journal,
...diagramming my complicated thoughts on a paper napkin.

And I am so very grateful for this
Because I draw a lot of lines.
I think of my Mom every day.

I'll never forget the day this connection was formed in my little 6-year old mind.
I was drawing at our kitchen table,
the smell of dinner in the air.
She observed me from above and smiled down at me.
"Wow." The word was long and drawn out,
almost multi-syllabic in barely contained amazement.
"You draw the nicest, straightest lines."

I was beaming, bursting with pride.
Mom thought I was really good at something.
How powerful her influence, how meaningful her praise.
Mom thinks I'm good.

Now that I'm older, I draw lines of a different kind.
I still draw the pencil and pen type; the crayon variety are pretty much behind me.
But now life asks me to draw the important lines.

And so, again,everytime I draw a line I still think of my Mom.
...drawing moral lines when the rhetorical questions become real,
...establishing an ethical border when the rules don't apply,
...marking the boundary between myself and others, when it's not so clearly defined,
...sketching the lines that make me who I am, when I'm asked to lead by example.

Gradually, sometimes painfully, other times gracefully,
these lines are forming a picture.
And as I define myself, I see her there in the image I'm tracing with every line I draw.
I am comforted and reassured, knowing that as long as I keep drawing "the nicest, straightest lines"
I'll be safe at home in the kitchen, no matter where I am.

Mom made it look simple.
I'm finding that it's not.
The lines aren't always easy to draw on my own.
So I trace my Mom's footsteps. I sketch her profile. I apply ink to memory.
I follow her path, stepping off every now and then, being true to myself when I need to.
She would want it that way.
And I stumble and I learn; I stray and I struggle.
I weep and I dance and I laugh and I sing.

And I've come to realize...
Strength and substance are drawn with simple straight lines,
through carrying on day after day
with faith in sunrise,
belief in truth,
stock in what is real.
Mom's beauty lies in her calm,
her elegance in the sureness of her step.
She is Serene and Resolved and Unafraid
somehow unaffected by it all.

How many times I've heard her say "Life marches right on..."
So not many things really matter too much.
Continuance. Perseverance. Serenity. Straight
lines... The nicest, straightest lines.

Submitted by Molly O'Shaughnessy

July 7, 1998 (for Kathy O'Shaughnessy)