Mom

My mother died today of natural causes.  She was 83 years old.  My father was with her at the end.  To my knowledge, they loved each other unreservedly all their years together.

I loved her while a child, I admired her while a teenager, and we were friends all the days of my adult life.   As her first-born child (of 4), I probably received an unfair amount of attention, and I thrived on it.

From the day I left home to attend college to the time about 5 years ago when Parkinsons Disease robbed her of her ability to write, we corresponded regularly.  Her letters were always insightful, humorous, and responsive to mine.  We enjoyed challenging each other to be clever.  If she wrote about a party invitation she had sent out in rhyme, I would respond in kind pretending I was accepting (we lived far apart, so it was only in fun).  We enjoyed each others wit and wisdom.   We wrote about our cats' antics.  She always loved Siamese cats (and here I am now with two).  When she could no longer write letters by hand, she obtained a Brother word processor and typed out letters with great difficulty.  Sadly, she became unable to do that in the last few years.  My lifelong correspondent was gone, and it does not work by telephone.

She gave me her sense of sly humor, a love of the vagaries and frustrations of the English language, an appreciation of classical and broadway music, a love of reading and writing, the impractical beauty of flowers, and a love of cats.

I would not be the person I am today if not for her.

She met my dad the first week at college and they never dated anyone else from that day.  Dad was a year ahead, so she graduated in 3 years to catch up.  She was a promising stage actress in college, being the leading lady in several college plays, but did not attempt a career at it.

She was happy to be a wife and mother.  She was an avid golfer. She told Dad she wouldn't date any guy who didn't play golf, so he learned the game and became an avid golfer himself (getting to a zero handicap at one point).  They played golf constantly for decades.

MEMORIES

Learning to cook:  I was chief potato peeler and masher.  I cracked walnuts for her wonderful banana cake (I have never seen a banana cake remotely like hers).  When I left home, I used to ask her for the recipe.  She would laugh and say I would get the recipe when she died.  Fortunately, she sent it to me 10 years ago and I have made one every few months since then.  She also made a Boston Cream Pie (a cake actually) to die for.  But I lost my sweet tooth after college and she stopped making it.  But she sent me off to college with basic cooking skills, and that has done me well ever since.

Classical and Broadway music:  We listened to classical music at dinner most nights.  I came to love it.  But my best memories are of broadway musicals.  We learned all the songs of Camelot, The Sound of Music, Tenderloin, etc.  Her favorite was Tenderloin.  We memorized every song.  To this day, I can pretty much sing all the songs at will.  She loved it so much that before the recorded album was released, we would write down the lyrics as they were played on the radio.  Yes, there WERE stations that played broadway songs back in the 60's.  And just a few days ago, my best friend recalled that I used to sing the Camelot songs to myself while in college (I don't remember that, but friends know things about you that you don't know yourself).

Her endless childhood stories:  Everyone tends to repeat the same stories of their childhood.  The ones that you learn to anticipate word-by-word.  I know how she got her first cat, how one of her brothers accidentally killed his first dog, how she cut her wrist open closing the glass door, the stories of her relatives, etc.  I know them by heart.  But I will never hear her tell them again...

Learning to sew:  Yes, I learned to sew; few guys do.  I was always curious about how things worked.  I must have expressed some curiousity about sewing at some point.  I learned the basics.  She taught me to hem pant cuffs, do a chain stitch, and darn socks.  I'm not very good at it, but I can get by.  That's another thing more guys should learn.  And from what I understand these days, more women, too.  Maybe I should mention that her Dad was a tailor...

Language:  Mom taught me to read before I entered Kindergarten.  That may be common today, but it was rare in the 50s.  Parents read to their children, but she encouraged me to read to her at bedtime.  I recall going to the town library to get my library card.  I had to write my name and address.  I could have written a short essay!  Apparently, I was a surprise to the librarian because of my young age.  I read voraciously.  By the time I was 12, I had exhausted the "teenage" reading library and was allowed to check out adult books.  I thank Mom for that lifetime gift.  I have been a reader all my life.

Humor:  I'll combine creativity and humor here.  Mom taught me to love language, puns, and humor.  She was creative in everything she did.  An example:  The club they belonged to had a "Crazy Hat Party" once.  Dad made her a cardboard hat with a wide brim.  We attached my Ben Hur Chariot Race figurines all around it.  2nd place had some peacock feathers on a regular hat.  Mom won by a landslide.  There was no such thing as "over the top" with her.  I learned to be creative in everything I did, thanks to her.

I mentioned party invitations earlier.  Mom loved to entertain at parties.  She loved themes.  If the theme was "Beach", there would be fishnets on the walls and driftwood tables.  The invitations she sent out would be crafted in beach-theme poetry.  The food and drinks would be beach-oriented.  When they moved away from me to NH, she would always send me a copy of her poem invitations.  I loved that, and replied in poetry as if an invitee (none of her guests ever did).  My best was a rendition of 'The Raven'.  She loved it!  Her party-throwing days ended 20 years ago so there have not been any clever and delightful party invitations since.  I miss that.

Cats:  Mom was one of the best cat-namers I ever knew.  She would research languages to find the right names.  She loved Siamese cats and we had 2 while I was growing up.  Both were named "Pretty Little Girl".  But it was "Kenani" in Hawaiian and "Hai U Phin" in Thai.  I had a series of wonderful gray tabby cats through the years and tried to give them clever names, but it wasn't until 3 years ago that I got Siameses of my own.  My names weren't as fancy, but when I explained to Mom that their names were from a story about Cro-Magnon characters and described the story, she thought they were very good names.  She could never remember the names of my previous cats (she always called Skeeter "Skeezix" and LC "Elsa"), but she remembered Ayla and Iza correctly.

Nature:  When I was a child, Mom took me around the yard putting out bits of yarn for the birds to make nests with.  Then we rejoiced at seeing the yarn in nests in trees later.  It taught me how to notice bird nests in trees to this day.  And there was "Squinty the Squirrel".  Squinty had one eye.  Mom left toast crusts on the kitchen windowsill for it.  Squinty was a regular visitor for several years.  Later, Mom became the official burier of birds that crashed into the house windows.  We had a whole mini graveyard.  She taught us that animals had lives too.  And that lives end.

There is so much more, of course, but I have to stop somewhere.  It's been a sad Summer.  My sister died suddenly last month and now Mom.  They are the first deaths in the immediate family.  I hardly know how to deal with this.  But putting some of it in writing helps.

I'll end with 2 pictures.

Mom and me...

Mom and Dad a few years ago...

Goodbye, Mom.  I'll miss you all the remaining days of my life.