Shout out! Hey Poconos!!!
I wanted to say "hey" to the Anthem Guy who is always so helpful and makes my job look SO easy!!!!
Sunday, October 14, 2007
I'll probably complain a LOT about my mom in the days to come. But there is so very much good to tell.
My mom is incredibly intelligent. She was a straight A student. She was a cheerleader. (So was I, and so was my daughter, Sandi. Rah Rah!) She was the first girl/woman in PA to be offered an engineering scholarship. That was back in 1945. Sadly, she opted for marriage and children instead. Back then you certainly couldn't do both.
My mom met my dad when she was 13 and he was 16. She wrote in her diary that night "I've met the man I'm going to marry." A year later my dad lied about his age and went off to World War Two. He was a mechanic in the Army Air Corps. There wasn't an Air Force yet.
My mother was raised by her mother, her mother's mother, and her mother's mother's mother. Her grandmother owned a general store. Her parents owned a farm and an inn on a lake. Grandpa also delivered rural mail and drove school bus. These were all occupations that shielded my mother from the worst of the depression. Mom doesn't have the horror stories that most people her age have.
Mom was a dazzling beauty. She looked like Rita Hayworth, and was the town siren. At the age of 20, Mom owned a fabric store. She was always resourceful and creative.
Mom and Dad married a few weeks after Mom's high school graduation, and just days after The War ended. You know? I never saw wedding pictures. Huh! I just realized that! I remember on the eve of my wedding, my mom told me about her honeymoon night. It was a beautiful story. It put to rest my jitters. (That and the fact that the fruit was already off the vine, if you catch my drift!)
My sister was born 3 days short of their first wedding anniversary. My brother came 3 years later. Another sister arrived five years before I was born.
My oldest sister tells a beautiful story of her childhood. She was left handed and dyslexic. Her teachers were trying to force her to be right handed and determined that she was also retarded. One day my Mom wrote the alphabet on a chalk board and instructed my sister to repeat the exercise. She wrote everything backwards. So my mom taught her backwards. She managed to show her what was REALLY there and not what she saw. Thanks to my mom's patience, my sister grew to be just as dazzling as my mother in the intelligence department.
I saw tons of pictures of all of mom's kids. We were well-dressed and always smiling. I think Mom wanted us all to be happy. And I think she did what she could to accomplish that.
I don't remember much of my early years. My first clear and sequential memories start at around age 10. I remember fabulous clothing. My mom was a magnificent seamstress. Seamstress is just not it. Taylor. That's what she was.
When I was 8, we were going to the symphony. Mom made me a red velvet skirt with a matching vest. I wore a white satin blouse, white tights and shiny black Mary Janes. When my grandfather died, Mom whipped up a navy blue crushed velvet skirt and vest.
When I was a teenager, we did everything backwards. (God, I loved the 70's!) We went shoe shopping first. Dad didn't care how much we spent on shoes, because Mom would whip up a fabulous outfit for pennies from the remnant tables. I got a new outfit a week. Sometimes more!
My mom made suits for my dad. Dad was in a Southern Gospel Quartet. Mom made them the most gawd awful red plaid blazers. I thought they were awful, but the rest of the world thought the red pants, white shirts, shoes, and belts were WAY snappy! (Hello Florida!)
Mom also did wonderful things with interior design. Everyone wanted Mom to do their drapes, bedspreads and upholstery. She was incredible in that department as well.
When my first husband and I separated, it was an icky scandal. Instead of lecturing me, my mom came to town and made curtains for my apartment. She never said, "I told you so" or "you shouldn't have" She just decorated the castle in the clouds.
In the hardest times of my life, my mom had a way of coming through. So you see, I owe her this time. As hard as it has been, I owe her.
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