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My thoughts seem so hard to 'organize' or whatever this morning... Almost impossible if you will... Having looked at so many photos has left me a bit melancholy at best...
Where to begin about my mother...
She was one of those people, too few and far between, that were/are angels on Earth.
On any given day, at some point, she could be found writing a letter to someone... As a young lady, to write to her dad, who still lived in Upper Michigan. She had moved to Green Bay and had gotten a job at Kraft Cheese. (She worked there until she married in 1949; and made many many friends). Later letter writing sent her notes all over the world. To France. Germany etc. Her brothers being enlisted and both fighting the war.
Even before she died, and after two strokes had left her a bit fuddled at times, she could be found writing her letters and in her journal.
...Until she had written her last letter... Dated November 6th, 1998 to a dear friend in California. She would faithfully have mailed it the morning that she died.
Mom had so many friends, and an address book that reflected her love for them. In those books she kept 'notations' of all of their birthdays, their childrens birthdays, their grandchildren... and would always mention them, if not send them their own cards. (I fail miserably at her organizational skills in that department; though I have been known to organize my purse in record time too). hehehe
She would also write down when those friends and relatives had passed, (and a very slight "x" through their addresses would remind her not to send them a Christmas/Birthday card any longer).
Although Mom was a devout Catholic; she was NOT a fanatic. (Although I am sure that Mary and I questioned that many times when a reference to "The 10 Commandments" would be made). hehehe
Mom attended mass every day before work up until her marriage to dad; and then more sporadically daily until Mary and I came along.
Mass was at 4AM at Sts Peter and Paul Church in Green bay. She would wake, dress, drive into town, weather permitting, and go to this very early mass. Before she turned in for the night, she faithfully said her prayers for others; and her rosary. My dad did the very same.
In her later years, she misplaced those rosarys a few times, and Mary and I would get her new ones; always 'blessed' before use.
On the wallplate in the living room was the message, "The Family that PRAYS together STAYS together." And it was true. Most nights to get down on our knees, and at least say the first decade of the rosary. Together.
Do I pray now? I do. Daily.
Am I organized enough to even use my rosary? Mostly not, but my prayers reflect my days and my heart; my love for others too.
Mom was SO funny.
Many times, what might have been actually humorless and/or dull could be found hysterical from her own point of view. Spilling a bag of cranberries on the floor one year at Thanksgiving was cause to end up holding our sides laughing so very hard! She loved Erma Bombeck, and would lend her books to me after she was done reading them. She laughed out loud at RoseAnne Barr. And would call me to share the funniest things she had heard; or what had happened.
She loved to read, but did not get the daily Press Gazette. However, my cousins (next door) did, and would give her those papers when they were done with them. She had subscriptions to Good Housekeeping, Country Farm Wife; and while they still farmed, the Hoards Dairyman would also grace our mailbox. She loved the National Geographic; again received from my cousins... (Thank you JoAnne and Jim Reimer).
There was little that she wasn't aware of that went on in the world, near or far. And up until the last 2 years of her life, she never missed an election. Mom and Dad were completely unwavering in their patriotism; though they would spat about whom to vote for too!
She loved art. She collected prints and frames whenever a trip to Goodwill or St. Vincent de Paul was in order. She herself painted with oils, charcoal, watercolor, (and could draw like those people that do the court drawings of others on the witness stand). When I had my gallbladder removed in Oct of 1984, she drew me asleep in the recovery room! She painted the cows, the cats, the dogs, the trees.
And oh, how she LOVED her camera! There is a trunkful of her photos that I have yet to go through.
When we were kids, Mom would mail her film out to get it developed, and receive new rolls of film when those pictures came back to her. (She would have especially LOVED my little digital camera)! Later, when the stores offered it, there was a trip to Sure~Way to bring her films in. (If you brought the film in early enough in the day, sometimes you could get them back the next day)!
Such progress!
She had "a wicked right"...
Mary and I tested her strength, (and the length of her arms), many times over.
(Sorry 'bout that, Mom).
She was fair though, (as you all know already)...
She was very smart. Her education augmented with many courses from the Technical School here in town; and for her art, either by night classes or at 'The Clearing' up in Door County.
In her early years, she was a maid--- and SO many funny stories about the heirarchy of the upper~classes from those years.
(Dare I say "Uppity~Classes")? hehehe
She was a housekeeper at St Vincents Hospital for many years too; knowing many of the patients and their families by the time they left the hospital. (In those days, they would keep an appendectomy patient or even a new mother in the hospital for a very long time)...
She cared for, and helped deliver many of her nieces and nephews as they came into the world; staying and helping out the family until my aunts were able to take care.
Not having a car during the Depression years, she would take the bus to work, or simply walk. ("Shanks~Mare", as Pa would call it).
She would take the train to Sidnaw, Michigan to visit her dad; or catch the train out to her sisters in Kunesh. And in those days there was always the local Greyhound too.
My Aunt Lucille and Uncle Clem had horses, and there was a local man who would break those horses for a small fee.
She met this man when she was about 15...
When she was 33, she married this same man!
...If he could break horses, farm and care for his live~in aging mother, go to church, be the janitor there, and also dig the graves as needed, then he was 'just alright' in her book.
She always said she knew him for 18 years before she married him, and that we should never jump into anything. Even though he had proposed on their second date; (and she had accepted)! How cool is that!
She was as proud of her family; as I am of mine. Fierce in her loyalty to us too. She taught me that, and to this day there has not been much that we cannot overcome; either by talking, or by prayer. At some point to have a melding of the minds, or to accept the differences and to respect them.
Mama earned respect from many people just because she had such a good heart. And yes, even earned that same respect from one friend who was a harlot, (as they called those ladies in those days)...
Mama never had to look too far to see the 'good' in everyone. (The harlot loved art).
To screw up was to be forgiven... (even if it took a little while)!
She was VERY patient. She would define our screw~ups as "simple human nature"... When we would get passionate about something, we would be reminded of that humanity, and we would go forward from that point of view.
She taught us not to hate. She taught us that the opposite of love is NOT hate; it is apathy. And to be apathetic toward anyone, for any reason was wrong.
We could not say "hate".
We could not even say "poop". And when I came home from school one day in 5th grade (after hearing quite an exchange on the school bus), I had asked her straight out what the "F"~word meant. (Well, heck I didn't know)...
Her first response was "Who talks like that?" And so I told her who. She explained about the word; and after we had gone outside to do our chores, I guess she got on the phone to a few kids' parents because they did get in trouble for it.
I really COULD go on and on and on... But I won't. (Not today anyway)...
In closing, I would simply say "Thank You" to this amazing woman...
...That is, right AFTER I tell her how very much I love her, (and how very much I miss her now)...
XOXO
Anne
And now it would be time for everybody else to tell me the stories of your own mama!
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