For those who are fortunate enough to have your Mother around this Mother's Day, give her an extra hug.
Lilacs
were my Mom's favorite. We had several bushes in the backyard, where
she could enjoy them while she was hanging out the laundry to dry.
There's nothing like the smell of laundry dried outdoors and the smell
of Lilacs. In 2009 I planted several Lilac Bushes in front of my
porch. They're starting to get bigger now, and the fragrance is
amazing. Sitting on the porch, drinking my coffee, breathing in that
wonderful smell takes me back. For some reason, Lilacs and Coty
Airspun Facepowder are the smells that most remind me of my mother. I
recognize both instantly and it takes me back.
March
7, 2011, she would have been 81. She passed away 27 years ago. I
was 22 at the time and I was devastated. It was completely unexpected
and sudden.
My Mother was Italian. She was the
youngest of 4 girls. Her Mother died during childbirth. The 4 girls
were put in orphanages. My Mother was adopted and raised by a
childless couple. Her father remarried and had another 2 girls and a
boy. I believe it was in adulthood that the siblings reconnected and
remained close. We always had holidays at what would have
technically been my step-grandmother's house.
I am
the oldest of 2 girls. My parents were married 11 years before they
had me. My Mother was 36. She had 2 miscarriages prior. They were
beginning to think they weren't going to have children. My sister was
born 17 months later.
I was very close with my
Mother. I would sit and watch her make spaghetti sauce from fresh
tomatoes from the garden or clean huge fish that the neighbor boy
brought over from his fishing trips with his Dad. I was always
watching her when she cooked, no matter what it was. Whether it was
simple fried pork chops, cube steaks, Sicilian steak, lasagna or
bracciole. I was always there watching. I'm sure my love of cooking
was cultivated in her kitchen.
I also am a perfectionist at ironing. Every day I watched my Mother iron my father's shirts and his
handkerchiefs after school while we watched
Leave It To Beaver in the living room. I would always ask her why she bothered ironing the
handkerchiefs,
especially considering they would get wadded up in my father's pants
pockets right after he took them out of the drawer, but she insisted
they had to be ironed. It was the 60's and that's just what wives did.
My Mother was my best friend and she was
the
Mom of our block. True, there were other stay at home moms on our
block, but they didn't have the patience or compassion that my Mother
had. Our house was the '
go to'
house whenever any of the other kids on the block were having a bad
day at home. Sometimes the kids would wait until late afternoon when
my Mother would sit on the stoop, other times they were bold enough to
ring the bell. My Mother always had a treat and a hug and a kind ear
for all of them. I must admit that I was a bit jealous of the
attention they got and I would always tell my Mother how she was being
so taken advantage of because all they came for was the cupcakes,
brownies or candy bars. Of course now I've come to realize that wasn't
really true. Some of them just came for the hugs. For them, the
treats were the icing on the cake. We had one neighbor with 5 kids and
their Mom was always hollering at one or all of them for something.
If I heard her hollering, I could count the minutes until one of their
kids showed up at our door. Another neighbor had 7 children. Same
thing. Yet another neighbor, the Mom started drinking beers at 10am
and had her children clean house for her and get dinner ready while she
sat back and watched her soaps. How did I know this? Because our
friends always complained about the chores and if we ever tried to go
to their house before their Mom let them out after chores, she would
answer the door with a brewski in her hand.
Four years
before my Mother passed away my sister and I threw our parents a 30th
Wedding Anniversary Party. I rented out the local bar that had a
hall that our relatives always used for occasions. I conspired with my
Mother's sisters and her step-mother. Somehow I managed to cook all
of the food at my mother's house on the sly. I made barbecued beef
and took it to her step-mother's house and put it her their freezer.
My sister and I purchased all the other necessary items and ordered
salads from the deli store. One of my Aunts had sent them an
invitation for a Wedding Anniversary for one of her sisters. My
parents had no clue the party was for them. My mother even purchased a
card and a gift. When they came to the hall and we all yelled
"Surprise!" my poor mother turned around and walked out. Her sisters
had to chase her down. She was embarrassed by all the fuss. After a
few minutes she came back to the party and we all had a really great
time. It was the first time I'd seen my Mother have more than 1
drink. If it's possible, she was even more sweet than usual. After
the party my sister and I loaded up our cars with the leftovers and
took them back to my parent's house. I sat up with my Mother for
hours and she just talked and talked.
A few years
later on New Year's Eve I didn't have any specific plans. I drove to
my usual haunts and found nothing going on. I could have hung out
anyway, but I kept thinking how my Mother was home alone. My Father
had gone out to the bar he hung out at on Friday nights and my sister
was out as well. After driving for awhile the guilt of her being home
alone got to me and I stopped at PDQ (similar to 7 Eleven) and got a
bottle of Cold Duck, a can of cheese spray and a box of Triscuits. I
know it sounds funny, but hey, I was in my twenties! Besides, beggars
can't be choosers when the only thing open was PDQ. My Mother and I
drank the Cold Duck and had our cheese spray and Triscuits and rang in
the New Year with Dick Clark. My Mother and I talked and laughed
until my Father and my sister came home.
My Mother
died suddenly the morning after my sister and I came back from a
weekend in Madison. I'll never forget when my supervisor came up to
me and said my Father had called and wanted me to go home right away.
My sister was working with me at the time. I took my car and we drove
home. Neither of us looked at each other. Tears streamed down our
faces. Somehow, even though our Mother was never ill a day in her
life, somehow we knew she was gone. When we pulled into our
subdivision and saw the police squad in the driveway, we knew for
certain. One of our friends drove us to the hospital, but she was gone
before she left in the ambulance. A valve in her heart burst.
Nothing could be done.
I don't remember what happened
the rest of that day, other than I never slept. The next day our
Father made us go with him to the funeral parlor. He told us that we
had to go so we would know how to handle things when he passed. He
was right of course, but that didn't make us feel any better about
going there. When my Father did pass 6 years later I just went to the
same funeral home and told them to just do it all up the same and I
signed the papers. I really didn't need to go through that experience
with my Mother to do that, but I think my Father had the idea that I
was the oldest and that I had to know how to do that sort of thing.
Surprisingly I did remember all the minutiae of the process, my sister
of course did not. I don't think I slept for an entire week. I had
never drank coffee before my Mother passed away, but I started drinking
it after and I pretty much lived on it that entire week. My Mother
had always said coffee was for grown-ups and had always looked down on
youngsters drinking coffee. I guess with my Mother gone I suddenly
felt like a grown-up. I still drink coffee to this day.
I
think I cried the hardest the night of the funeral as people were
getting into their cars and driving away from our house. I walked one
of my friends to her car and it suddenly hit me that I never gave my
Mother grandchildren. She so loved children and she often babysat for
some of the other families on the block. Eventually I did have
children, kind of late like she did. I'm hoping she's looking down
from heaven and watching over her 2 beautiful grandchildren.
This
Mother's Day is bittersweet. My daughter is still in the hospital. Has been since April 19th. I can't tell you how much I miss her, how much we all miss her. Children, hug your Moms today, and Moms, hug your children tightly today.
Happy Mother's Day everyone!
Lola's Diner ©2008-2012
