Allison Moorer placed a statue of Saint Jude in her garden where it could “watch” her 10-year-old son, John Henry, when he plays in the yard.
The statue is in remembrance of Justin Townes Earle – John Henry’s much older half-brother – a singer-songwriter whose last album was named for its title track, “The Saint of Lost Causes.” Discussing his song in a YouTube video, he speaks briefly about persons who are marginalized and about Saint Jude’s association with children.
In 2019, after cycles of addiction, recovery and relapse, Justin died of an accidental drug overdose at the age of 38.
As she watches John Henry play, Moorer recalls images of Justin holding him.
“How do I explain death to you?” the mother writes in words addressed to John Henry, who cannot read or understand those words. He has been diagnosed with Level 3 autism (the most severe diagnosis) and is non-verbal.
Moorer’s recently published memoir, “I Dream He Talks to Me,” is about raising John Henry. She writes about her stresses and worries but also the joy her son brings her. It’s not a spiritual memoir, but it contains an obvious spiritual dimension.
John Henry’s inability with language can be particularly troubling. In a chapter on “the worst part,” she describes her helplessness when he wakes up crying frantically but is unable to explain what is upsetting him. Did he have a nightmare, or is he in physical pain? A migraine, an ear infection or something worse? Is he thinking about his dead half-brother?
“If I am unable to know what’s wrong, how can I help?” Moorer writes. People inevitably get sick and scared, she continues, “but not having anyone understand our pain of whatever kind must create a whole separate sort of agony.”
After futilely trying to comfort him, rubbing his back, trying to give him chewable ibuprofen, laying down beside him, she concludes, “All I can do is pray, I guess.”
Moorer mentions prayer often. At one point, she writes that prayer helps her see the beauty of life while coping with all its seeming absurdity and common misery: “It’s all I’ve got.”
Of her own childhood, Moorer writes, “My beginning was in an abusive, violent and unpredictable household.” Her father was an alcoholic who mistreated his wife. She left him, taking Moorer and her other daughter with her. When he tracked them down, Moorer’s father killed his wife with a shotgun and then killed himself. Moorer was 14 and her sister, the singer-songwriter Shelby Lynne, was 17.
Professionally, like her sister, Moorer has become a successful musician. Her recognitions include an Academy Award nomination for Song of the Year and a Grammy nomination for a collaboration with her former husband, Steve Earle. (Earle is the father of John Henry and, from an earlier marriage, Justin Townes Earle.)
Personally, Moorer struggles to overcome her own “issues and triggers” to better care for her son – a child who cannot articulate his own feelings and fears. The subtitle of “I Dream He Talks to Me” is “A Memoir of Learning How to Listen.”
As Pope Francis put it in a 2016 message, “Listening is much more than simply hearing. Hearing is about receiving information, while listening is about communication, and calls for closeness.”
Moorer works to develop a closeness with her child against the formidable obstacles to their sharing information. She describes John Henry – despite the unending challenges of living in a world that doesn’t understand him – as “my mind’s resting place.” She has learned from him that “the best way to love a person is to let them be exactly who they are.”
The extra care he requires, she finds, is accompanied by moments of grace. In describing those moments, she sounds like anyone who has struggled with God’s own apparent silence but has also experienced joy so intense that it feels undeserved.
“One ounce of warmth from my son takes away a hundred pounds of what can sometimes feel like indifference,” she writes. “How does that happen if not by divine creation?”
One morning she goes into his room to see if he is awake. His eyes are open, and he begins to hum a tune.
“He gives me the sweetest smile and puts his arms around my neck, pulling me toward him for a hug,” she writes. “These are the moments that I wait on, when I can actually feel instead of just have faith that he loves me.”
Carl Peters is former managing editor of the Catholic Star Herald.
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