I

have always suspected that life moves in countervailing cycles. I was nevertheless struck by the bittersweet irony that Barack Obama won reelection on Nov. 7, the same date on which his mother died 17 years ago. His rise, her demise.

Ann was 52 years old when she died of uterine cancer in 1995. Sadly, she was unable to bask in the glory of his amazing achievement. And this Nov. 29, she would have been 70. Yes folks, tomorrow.

If she had been in Jakarta for Obama’s reelection and/or her birthday, I would certainly have celebrated with her. She was one of my best friends for 14 of the almost 30 years she lived in and out of Indonesia. I haven’t stopped missing her since the day she flew to Hawaii in January 1995, the last time she left Indonesia and the last time I saw her before she died. I have never stopped wishing for a miracle — that somehow she might come alive again.

Then in May 2011, she did. Not suddenly, and not in physical form, but through the pages of a biography entitled A Singular Woman: the Untold Story of Barack Obama’s Mother, written by Janny Scott, a former New York Times journalist and Pulitzer Prize winner.

Reconstructing anyone’s life, let alone the life of someone you never met, is an ambitious undertaking. It took Janny 200 interviews and three years of meticulous research.

As Janny said when she took on the task in 2008, “I knew it’d be difficult. Anyone’s mother is a sensitive topic, and then when you’re running for president and you’re Obama, people wanted to be especially careful about what they said that could potentially hurt him.”

That was also my concern when Janny interviewed me in January 2009. As it turned out, my fears proved unfounded when the book finally appeared. It was thoughtful, well-researched, balanced and incisive. At the same time, it was sensitive in portraying Ann as the complex, multifaceted, unconventional person she was.

How did it feel for me to “meet” Ann again in the 376 pages of her biography?

I have to say, I felt a whole gamut of emotions: Curiosity (about the earlier parts of her life in Kansas and Hawaii, with which I was unfamiliar); admiration (for her courage, determination, optimism and, at times, seeming recklessness); questioning (at her choice of men); nostalgia (reminiscing about our talks, tears, laughter, fights, misunderstandings, reconciliations, and shared precious moments); a deeper understanding (of her unconventionality, rebelliousness and independence), realization (of the importance of the pioneering role she played in developing microcredit and microfinance programs for the poor, especially women); respect (for her vision, work-ethic and integrity); amusement (recalling funny incidents and her suffer-no-fools attitude); deep appreciation (of her friendship and love, as well as her humanism, tolerance, belief in racial equality, progressive values and social concerns); profound regret (that I could perhaps have been a better friend and was not there at her side during her last days, a regret I share with her son); and, of course, a deep longing and indescribable sadness that she’s no longer around.

These are my reactions, as a close friend. But what prompted Janny, a total stranger, to delve so deeply into Ann’s life? “I encountered a photograph of Obama and his mother. I was fascinated by the juxtaposition…of the very obvious similarities and differences between them… I felt moved by her story; it really shed light on Obama. I understood him differently.”

But Janny’s motivation in writing the book was also to go beyond the reduction of Ann to “the white woman from Kansas”. This appealed to me greatly, as it did to the many people who said they were moved to tears by Ann’s story. The book was on the bestseller list for several weeks, with sales approaching 100,000 copies, and it has since been translated into several languages, with an Indonesian version now on the way.

What initially prompts most people to read Janny Scott’s fascinating biography of Ann Dunham is to try to glean a better understanding of Obama.

Certainly, the books helps the reader see more clearly what moves him, and also what comes across as a certain ambivalence Obama has toward his mother.

He famously said that “What is best in me I owe to her”, but his way of doing and being, and his choices in life, are often totally the opposite of his mother’s. This reflects the push and pull of the love-hate relationship many sons have with their mothers — especially those who are strong, independent women.

I’ve also often wondered when I observe Obama’s presidency, what Ann might say about his policies. I’m sure she would have had some pretty strong disagreements with him.

Reading the book also made me reflect how difficult it is to understand others — and even more difficult still to understand ourselves. Our closest relations are our mirrors, if we choose to see them as such. And too often, we take them for granted, and only realize — often after they’re no longer in our lives — that we could have done better.

So thanks Janny, for resurrecting Ann — not just for me, but for the thousands, maybe millions of readers who will be inspired by the very singular woman you captured so well.

The writer (juliasuryakusuma.com) is the author of State Ibuism.