My Day With Amy Tan

This week I spent an enjoyable afternoon with my mom over lunch in a beautiful country club setting. The 300 other women who joined us enjoyed their lunch as well as we all eagerly anticipated the arrival of the guest speaker.

Amy Tan.

Amy Tan

Sorry for the out-of-focus photo, but my hands were shaking!

Yes, that Amy Tan.  The author of such books as The Joy Luck Club, The Kitchen God's Wife and The Bonesetter's Daughter.

My mom's book club boasts the presence of many fabulous guest speakers, including Anna Quindlen, Jo Jo Moyes, Lisa See, Mitch Albom and Daniel Silva. An impressive array of talented authors.

I've gone to a few of these gatherings with my mom. She and her friends are avid readers, and it is their great pleasure to not only attend these events, but to bring their daughters along as guests. It's always a sweet time to be in the company of these ladies.

We eat, chat and discuss great literature.

Before Amy began to speak she graciously stopped at each table, greeting us with a kind word and a warm smile. When it  was my turn to meet her, I tried to fit in my elevator speech about having a blog and being a writer, but I clearly wasn't vocal enough.

I'll have to work on that.

Amy Tan

Her necklace was handmade and her silk jacket was extraordinary

As I listened to her eloquently discuss her new book, The Valley of Amazement, and spin stories about her real life, I was moved in ways I hadn't anticipated. I know that sounds trite, but it's true. She was so authentic, so obviously self-assured despite a difficult childhood, that you couldn't help but feel as if she were your best friend.

But our family history couldn't be more different.

Amy Tan was born in California to Chinese immigrants, to a father who was a minister and a mother who was emotionally dysfunctional. As Amy's story unfolded we learned about the family history that helped her form the basis of her rich, vibrant novels. Her story began years before she was born, with her mother's decision to leave an abusive husband behind in Shanghai along with their three young daughters. It continues on with the tragedy of losing her father and brother when they die within months of each other from brain tumors, and her mother's decision to move the family to Switzerland after those tragic events. Then, a few years later, she experienced the trauma of having her mother threaten to kill her and her family so they could re-join her father and brother in the afterlife.

Using a slideshow filled with old family photographs, she describes in great detail the story behind every stitch of clothing worn by family members, and discusses the nuance behind each facial expression. Most of the photos were taken years before Amy was born, yet she is still able to spin an intriguing yarn about every print . Your focus never leaves the conversation because of her sheer genius at crafting a tale.

She is a master storyteller.

For me, as a writer and someone with a great need to write my own story, it was my great privilege to listen to such an inspiring author. She is what every good author should be, and through the seemingly simple act of being purely herself, she was able to rekindle a lost spark within me that has long needed to be reignited.

The need to write my first book.

She is an original, true to herself at all times despite family history and the emotional scars inflicted on her by her mother.  She illustrates, by example, that no matter where we come from and what our own stories are, they need to be told. And when we write them, it is our personal responsibility to hold true to the truths about ourselves and the stories that make us uniquely us.  Because honesty, before all else, is a requirement of good writing. The written word is sacred.

That is what I learned from you, Amy Tan. And for that I thank you.  

OTHER POSTS YOU MIGHT ENJOY:

The Best Gifts Are Passed Down From One Generation To The Next

Someone asked me what was the best gift I ever received. I've been stumbling over my response to this question ever since.

love and compassion

I didn’t want to answer by saying something obvious, like a happy marriage (which I never take for granted) or something tangible like a beautiful piece of jewelry.

Then it hit me.  Of course.  It was right in front of me all the time.

The best gift I ever received might sound strange to you, but its the lessons I learned about myself, and from those around me, after being diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.    

Being diagnosed with an incurable chronic illness is not only about the patient. It's also about those who love and care about you. The courage and love shown by family and friends while the sting of the diagnosis is fresh and raw is a true lesson.

And a gift.

My family showed courage the day of my diagnosis.  My mother had the unenviable task of telling me about my diagnosis, something no mother should ever have to do.  My brothers hugged me, and my father quietly kissed my forehead while gently stroking my hair.

My boyfriend held me close, and whispered he was with me for the long haul.

My three best friends cried and laughed with me as we listened to each other's words of wisdom.

This is how my journey began.

Family gifts

Over the years I’ve had friends drop off the radar.  Because of their ignorance and inability to understand illness, I’ve been hurt, questioned and misunderstood. This served to strengthen me, and was the catalyst in my need to educate and spread awareness about MS and that, despite having a disability, my abilities are what define me.

The gifts I received of love and understanding are the ones I've tried to pass on.

When my son was born we decided to always be truthful with him, even about my illness.  Mommy can’t run, Mommy gets tired, Mommy has good days and bad.  We also wanted him to learn the importance of a positive attitude, tolerance and being compassionate.

When my MS Center was celebrating their 10th anniversary my son was 3 years old.  A popular local newscaster was attending their celebratory event, and my son and I were going as well. While the newscaster was speaking, I noticed my sweet little boy climbing up into the lap of one of our dear friends who was severely disabled and required a wheelchair.

I smiled when I noticed the joy on the man’s face.  That tiny act from our big-hearted, innocent child stayed with me all these years later.  I knew in my heart that we had, indeed, instilled in our son the best gifts I ever received:  love, compassion and an understanding heart.

My "best gift" was being passed down from one generation to the next.

gifts of family

 

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