Mothers are insane.
A week ago, when a jury was deciding whether Conner Schierman should live or die for murdering a family of four in Kirkland, his mom showed up and did her best.
Conner was the love of her life, she told the jurors. He’d had a tough childhood. His father was an abusive alcoholic. He’d struggled with addictions. He’d done origami in jail and learned how to meditate. “I love him, he loves me,” she said. A depraved killer? Not to her.
Nobody found her testimonial shocking. That’s the way mothers are.
One thing every child needs, said renowned psychologist Urie Bronfenbrenner, is somebody who’s crazy about him or her. That would be Mommy.
If Mom thinks her children are in the burning house, the firefighters will have to wrestle her to the ground. She’ll be up all night with a sick child, then put in a full shift at work, bring groceries home and cook dinner. She’ll still worry about her kids when she’s in her nineties and they’re in their sixties.
Crazy, irrational, blind, fanatical love. The human race wouldn’t survive without it.