Miriam A. Ferguson was married to the governor of Texas in the early part of the 1920s. Unfortunately, her husband was impeached and lost the governorship. He recommended to his fellow Texans that they should elect his wife. And so it was that Mrs. Ferguson, popularly known as Ma, which represented her first two initials, became governor and served two terms.
In her second term, there was a debate about Al Smith, the governor of New York, running for the presidency. Smith was a Catholic. At about this time, there was a proposal that foreign languages be taught in the public schools of Texas. Ma Ferguson disliked that idea. She is alleged to have said that “if English was good enough for Jesus, why isn’t it good enough for Texans?” If Ma Ferguson had done her homework, she would have discovered that Jesus spoke Aramaic. But Texans are generally unlikely to master Aramaic.
In the end, Ma Ferguson was remembered for her remark about Jesus being an English speaker. Carl Shepherd is a Texan who speaks English fluently. After Carl married my younger daughter, he commented that Suzanne had her mother’s looks and beauty, while also possessing her father’s brain. Carl overlooked the many awards given to me by my barbers attesting to my beauty. Obviously, I have tipped those barbers lavishly for their analysis. But Carl still holds the view that his wife has her mother’s looks and her father’s brain.
My daughter speaks English and French fluently. She learned to speak French before she ever went to Texas which avoided the wrath of Ma Ferguson. She is now a lawyer. In our conversation during the first weekend in February 2007, Suzanne informed me that she had a “mild case of glaucoma” in one of her eyes. That news made me feel as though I had been kicked by a horse in my midsection.
There is a reason for my consternation. The Carr clan has had a history of glaucoma which in some cases has led to blindness. It has affected my father, perhaps my grandfather, my brother, and now myself. I heard the figures on her intra-ocular pressure and I agree that, indeed, she has a mild case of glaucoma. Nonetheless, it has always been my objective for her to avoid glaucoma entirely, in spite of our family history with that malady. The fact that she has a mild case is of no moment to me. In point of fact, she inherited the gene or genes from me. No father can do this to his daughter without feeling a heavy sense of guilt.
Glaucoma is an insidious disease which has always been considered as incurable. It can only be contained, not cured. It is passed from one generation to another through heredity. In my case, my blind father passed the gene(s) on to all five of his children who grew to maturity.
When I thought about the news that Suzanne had given me, I was angry at myself. It makes no difference that the ailment had been in the Carr family for generations. I was distraught that my daughter had inherited the gene and I was the one who gave it to her.
My anger quickly subsided when Suzanne spoke to me in matter of fact terms. There was no hysteria on her part whatsoever. Now that my anger has subsided, we will do our best to deal with the situation that has been presented to us.
In her life, Suzanne has had more than her share of difficulties. During her college years, she spent some time at the University of Toulouse, France. A motorcyclist riding off the road hit her and broke both of her legs. Her first pregnancy ended with the loss of one of her twin sons. Her final pregnancy ended in the birth of a special child whom I had a hand in naming. His name is John Eamon, an Irish name. In short, Suzanne has had her share of troubles without having to wrestle with glaucoma, even if it is only a mild case.
Nine years ago when John Eamon was born, I wrote Suzanne and Carl a letter. It quoted one of Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe’s most memorable maxims which is:

“Wealth lost – something lost;
Honor lost – much is lost;
Courage lost – all is lost.”

The glaucoma issue is another case that will have to be dealt with as courageously as Suzanne has done in the past. It goes without saying that Judy and I will support Suzanne in every case.
Now we return to Carl Shepherd’s observation that he married a woman with her mother’s looks and my brain. As my conversation with Suzanne drew to a close, she told me that if glaucoma went with inheriting my alleged intelligence, she would make that choice every time. For an old grizzled essayist, that is about the best news from Texas that these New Jersey ears could hear. I am humbled and flattered.
In the final analysis, my daughter, her husband Carl, and the three boys speak English fluently, which should please Ma Ferguson’s ghosts. Suzanne’s courage should make Professor Goethe highly pleased. And finally, Suzanne’s observation about inheriting my intellect such as it is, even with glaucoma, makes me wonder what I ever did to deserve this courageous daughter. Pleasing Ma Ferguson, Professor Goethe, and this old filling-station attendant is a trifecta that no one can match.
E. E. CARR
February 8, 2007
Essay 235
POSTSCRIPT:
I sent a draft copy of this essay to Suzanne to see if she objected to its being distributed. Here is her reply:

Are you trying to make me cry? What a lovely essay. I don’t think I deserve the praise, but happy for you to send it. One of my first thoughts after getting the diagnosis was about Connor, Kevin and Jack and the fact that in all likelihood I have passed this on to them, as they will determine later in life, and as the senior generation in that configuration, I felt guilty. But then I thought as the junior generation in the configuration with you, how silly it is for you to feel guilty. You had no hand in this, your father had no hand in this, I have no hand in this, and life comes with troubles, inherited and otherwise. I’m sure you bore your father no ill will, and you have been a wonderful example of courage to me and the whole family as you have dealt with first the stroke and now blindness.
Nobody chooses their parents, but I do indeed believe I have come out with a substantial net surplus in my genetic inheritance from my father. Except the thinning hair PISSES ME OFF, OLD MAN. And I may have to take that up with you separately.
Until then, this is a beautiful essay and I thank you for it. I love you very much and am proud to be your daughter.
Suze

I replied to Suzanne with a further question. It reads:
Suzanne,
Now that all three of us are in tears, can we ask you one more question. I would like to include your touching reply when the essay is distributed. I hope you have no objection. It is a moving tribute and I am very proud of it.
Now on to cataclysmic events of the world. Do you believe that the autopsy on Anna Nicole Smith will disclose that she was an original virgin or did she have several hot patches on that delicate instrument? As my olive oil bottle says, I believe she was an extra colossal super virgin from day one.
EEC
Suzanne then replies:

Yes, happy to have you include my reply.
We are spending much precious legal time here in the Seton Legal Dept casting the TV movie that is sure to be inflicted upon the Merican public in coming months.
You can perhaps add to this:
ANS: Christina Aguilera or Selena, that Tijuana music star who died several years back
The son: River Phoenix or Kurt Cobain or other applicable young dead star
Howard Marshall: Cary Grant or Peter Boyle
ANS Mother: Ann Margret
Today’s topic is other purported paternity candidates. So far we have:
Mark David Carr
Jared from the Subway commercials
James McGreevey

The reply from New Jersey:
Dear Suzanne,
It wasn’t me. I didn’t knock her up.
Eternally and fraternally yours,
James McGreevey
Suzanne replies:

Perhaps Ted Haggard, then, as he is now fully certified in this regard.

The point in this colloquy is that no matter how bad the news, Irish people always tend to look for humor in every situation. For 800 years,
the English tried to destroy that Irish propensity for humor. They failed and in the end, wound up being George Bush’s poodle. Irishmen say,

“Ireland was Ireland when England was a pup,
Ireland will still be Ireland when England’s time is up.”

“Woof, Woof,” says the poodle. The Irish say “Up the Republic!”
~~~
Kevin’s commentary: Mom pretty much has this commentary covered. The very end of this conversation lost me but that seems fine. In related news, I got checked for glaucoma about a week ago and the ophthalmologist found no sign of it yet. Whee!