It is well past midnight and I am reading a particularly lovely passage in Major Pettigrew's Last Stand and I am smiling then abruptly burst into tears. Why? Well, I would love to be able to share this book with the other member of my two-person-Friday Book Club and I cannot, she died in September. For years my mother and I shared, extolled, ranted, raved and immensely enjoyed our exchanges about books that we had mutually read. This happened mostly on Fridays due to my "religion" - I haven't worked on Fridays for years, but truthfully it could have been any day of the week. The reading and treasuring these books was especially heightened in intensity when Mom and her husband had to sell their house [which she did single handedly] and move into a retirement complex [again, almost single handedly] and she had to give up hundreds of her books. I took this on as my mission, the least I could do, sending her six books every six weeks. Lucky for me, we liked many of the same books. Also fortunately, I have a dear friend who has remarkably similar taste in literature as Mom and I could easily rope her into the game. She read every one, even the ones she railed about. She read 'em all. She often said, "Susan, I don't know what I'd do without these books," and with that kind of gratitude it was my delight to seek out books she would particularly enjoy. I recommend this activity for anyone who has a friend who is ill or family member that you wish to be closer to, it is stimulating and very satisfying rather than reverting to "how's the weather where you are?"
There are many reasons that my Mother reaches the top of my list for remarkable and influential people in my life. As I thought about this it came to me that the people you admire and enjoy are the ones that you will grieve when they die, and they must be included on the influential list.
My Mom, by nature, was never very huggy-kissy and I was one of six children so there was no danger of being over indulged or spoiled. We learned independence at an early age. We ran free and as one of my sisters stated: "ours was a lively and raucous household". There were lots of artistic endeavors and always tons of music, perhaps to the neighbors chagrin. My Mom was quite an artist and drew for Marshall Fields & Co. back in the 40's which she had to abandon for her family but she never stopped being artistic. Music was one good way of keeping all six kids happy during long car rides. It is particularly sad to me that so many families are all on their isolated pods and not interacting while traveling. Everyone in our family not only learned to sing but also to play an instrument. Ah, the harmonies. I really believed that if you had more than two people singing there would naturally be three part harmony. Lucky, so lucky to be exposed to all of the music and singing at such an early age, and has brought so much joy to my life.
What I admired about my Mother was her willingness to change, bend and grow from rough experiences. My Dad had a series of what we now realize were panic attacks when he was in his late 30's, believing each time that he was having a heart attack. Many a time she rushed him to the emergency room until a Dr. told them he had to make some big changes in his life, adding that he could not continue to do what he was doing. He decided to quit his job: he had been working at the family restaurant with a very unpleasant brother and grew to hate the job. He loved restaurants though and so he and Mom sold the big house and bought a restaurant in a town 20 miles away from the restaurant in the big city. Very hard work, grinding long hours but they eventually made a success of the restaurant. During these tumultuous years she ended up packing up all six kids, pets and the family belongings four times in about four years before they finally settled into the home where my father died when he was only 67. 
She surprised us all by getting re married at the age of 75 and up and moving to her new husband's stomping grounds. They had about 9 or 10 good years and then he started to lose it, either minor strokes or dementia and though it was difficult [and so was he] she didn't leave him and took care of him until 3 months prior to his death. I don't believe his family has ever appreciated what she did for him and them.
Because her husband did not like to travel she became the one who would come out west to see us. She was there at all of the weddings, the funerals and an annual summer visit. It is hard to think, no more, never again. Her generosity is legend in the family, she financially helped each of our children with college, she aided in paying for surgeries, until very recently she sent us a check for our birthdays and always "a buck for luck". So I not only loved her, I admired her and realize that she influenced me greatly. I hope I can live up to some of her happier traditions, her creativity and her generosity. Tomorrow: What my Dad and Nelson Mandella Had in Common |
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