In an earlier post I mentioned that my mother was a wacky, red-haired housewife named Lucy Ricardo. Well, some readers have questioned my right to claim the Queen of Comedy as my very own. The thing is, I never said I was an only child. But even though I understand my siblings are legion, I really cannot over-state the role my spiritual mother played in my early development. Without her, I would have been left with only that other wacky red-head—the mother who gave birth to me—who was often angry, unpredictable, scary, and sometimes downright cruel.
I prefer Lucy. In fact, I love Lucy.
I love Lucy because she’s like me—so unjustifiably convinced she’s brilliant & talented, so eager to prove herself, so confident in her success, so inevitably doomed to failure, so good-humored about her endless mistakes, & so resilient about bouncing back from disaster every time. A girl could not possibly find a better role model.
But the most important lesson I learned from my fictional mother was that as long as there are stories in this world, I don’t have to be confined to the unpleasant realities of my “real” existence. From Lucy I learned that life is what you make it. I learned that I can dream, I can pretend, I can claim Lucy Ricardo as my very own. The story-telling skills of Lucille Ball taught me more about the power of myth than the droning lectures of Joseph Campbell ever could.
And, okay, sure–I understand that Lucy Ricardo is not real. I know she’s just a compilation of the creative energies of many people at many times & many places. But who the hell isn’t? Aren’t we all just a compilation of creative energies, a fleeting figment of our own imaginations?
So, I guess this is yet another reason why I wrote The Spirit Keeper. As long as I get to write the story of my life, then, by God, I wanted to make it an exciting one. I only hope Katie O’Toole can inspire & comfort other people the same way Lucy Ricardo inspired & comforted me.
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