Mom's Birthday

I've spent some time wondering what I might write about Mom this year. I feel I'm overlooking something that would be obvious had the world not gotten so weird of late, but there it is. Then I remembered a Facebook meme sent by my friend, Vivien. 

My reply was that either this was addressed to younger people or it was a British more than American thing. I could only identify a few things I remembered Mom as saying, and quite I few I couldn't even imagine her ever coming up with.  She may have said "Because I said so" or "Ask your Dad", I'm sure she said the thing about taking someone's eye out. 

Were you born in a barn?  This is a saying that circulated in the US not long before Mom died. She would have said "Shelley! Mind your manners. When ____ we do ____.

Move away from the TV, you'll get square eyes. She may have said I would hurt my eyes, but 'square eyes' wasn't mentioned. She often encouraged me to 'sit up straight'.

You wait until your Dad gets home. Mom was the primary disciplinarian in our house. She may have said something like Your father will not be impressed with this.

Who's SHE? the cat's mother? I think this is quite British. I gather - reading between the lines - that it's considered rude to refer to someone as 'she' if they are present. I am guessing they are supposed to always be referred to by name. No idea if this also applies to He. 

Do as I say not as I do. I think Mom may have said this a couple of times, but more along the lines of sheepishly acknowledging she didn't set a good example than to issue orders.

Eat your crusts, you'll get curly hair.  I'm not sure if this is a stick (that curly hair is bad) or a carrot (that curly hair is desirable). In any case, I've always liked bread crusts - in fact they are my favourite part - and I spent a good part of my childhood in hair curlers.

There is no such word as CAN'T  I don't believe she said this, but rather "You won't know unless you try."

Say 'Pardon', not 'What'  Pardon would have been considered an affectation where and when I grew up. She would have instructed me to say 'Excuse me? I didn't catch what you said'. I gather from various reading that here in Britain 'Pardon' is working class or perhaps regional (Bill's daughter Helen says it since marrying a man from Manchester). As I recall people here seem to say 'Sorry' for when they can't hear or when they bump into people. 'Excuse me' seems to be used when they want someone to most out of their way. We say that for the same purpose in the States, only followed by 'please'.

I've told you a thousand times   I'm sure Mom must have said this - doesn't every parent? - but I can't remember her saying it. She might ask me 'What have I said about...?'

What did your last slave die of? Mom didn't employ sarcasm, she was just straightforward. I do remember the first time she said 'Get it yourself'. I thought I'd die of shock, but at 12 years of age it was long overdue.

I want never gets  Not an American saying. However, I was definitely taught not to ask for things. I could say what I would like to have in a general way, or issue a wish list for Christmas or Birthdays, but not to whine and wheedle to my parents all the time - that was the surest way NOT to get something. And it was supremely bad manners to ask anyone else to give me anything; they had to offer first. When we were in funds I was allowed to chose one treat at the supermarket and I remember eating a basket of cherry tomatoes or a bag of cherries in the back seat on the way home. I expect I could have had candy, but I didn't like it nearly as much, which is very much down to the way they raised me. Being taught not to ask for things has sometimes proven to be a handicap. I have wondered, would  they would have trained a boy in the same way?

Back in my day... Mom's childhood was different - and in some ways far more privileged - than mine. Her father's family was well known and respected in southern Oklahoma. Her father was a road contractor and she and Grandmother travelled with him for at least the first five years of Mom's life - they lived in a tent until then. This sounds hard but they had servants AKA as 'coloured help'. I often heard about Gussie, who brought Mom a chocolate bar and a bottle of Coca Cola for her breakfast in bed. She said Gussie spoiled her. There were times when they were quite poor, but everyone was during the Depression. When Grandmother married a second time to an astute businessman Mom had quite a few luxuries again. But I always understood Mom made her own luxuries through her creative talents. I don't remember complaining about having it hard, because she was so clever about making things pretty or special in a way that other kids' Mom's didn't seem to know how to do. 

What's for dinner, mum? Shit with sugar on. Mom didn't swear beyond 'damn' or 'hell' and only then when really annoyed. She did sometimes fix S.O.S. which in military parlance was 'Shit On a Shingle' (meat in white sauce on bread). She never called it anything other than 'chipped beef on bread'.

No pudding unless you eat your dinner We rarely had pudding - dessert - and I don't expect there were many times I didn't eat my dinner; a lot of the time I asked for seconds. The only time we routinely had dessert was at Thanksgiving and Christmas. Sometimes she did make pudding (AKA custard in Britain) for a snack or a treat, but not as part of a meal.

If your mate asked you to jump off a cliff, would you? She may have said this, I don't recall. What I do remember was complaining about what other kids were allowed to do. Her reply was that I wasn't Jill or Sarah, I was Shelley J__ B___. I recall one time when she was trying to get me to conform to something she said, Why not be more like Joanne or Mary? My smart reply was because I was Shelley J__ B____... She laughed.

It'll all end in tears  She'll have said something to this effect, but not these words. 

It's like Blackpool bloody illuminations in here.  I'm sure I never heard of Blackpool until moving to Newcastle - and having been once I can report that there are a lot of neon lights there. I'm guessing this is a complaint about too many lights on in the house. I don't recall us being very conscientious about the electric bill in this way, though I expect we should have been. 

Mom wasn't at all like the person described in these sayings. She was tough as nails in a determined sort of way, but decidedly a Southern lady in all her endeavors. Her hardest battle was to try to make me into one. 

Rita's Birthday

Today should have been my Aunt Rita's 75th birthday. As it was, she died in 2007, not long after her 63rd. I'm conscious that I have now outlived Rita as well as my Uncle Bernard (57) and my maternal grandfather (56). I hope to live a few more decades, but I'm beginning to feel I've about had my share of life. Many early deaths are tragic and unfair whereas mine probably couldn't be considered so. Of course I say that about my demise with the detachment of relative health.

Bill and I were noting recently how easily my hands and arms are marked with bleeding under the skin. Any little knock or scratch will do it: pushing my arm through a backpack strap or a light scrape with the corner of a cereal box and I look like a victim of domestic abuse. I don't know what this condition is called, no doubt something beginning with 'senile', but my mom also had it.

Rita in the 1970s.

I was telling Bill about Grandmother's crazy, stupid German Shepherd dog, Duke. He was neurotic and undisciplined, like all of Grandmother's dogs, but because of his size he presented a real hazard in a house with two frail old women. At the end he was also ugly and in pain from a tumour that had stretched his skin to hang off the side of his head; a nightmare for all of us. Worse, he would jump on the couch with Mom, barking in her face. Her best defence was to spray him with hair spray to make him go away. Her arms were constantly marked with bruises from these encounters. This was in the days before pet health care insurance and their vet didn't do house calls, although I think he must have eventually.

Rita is part of this story because she lived closest to Mom and was often called out to do battle. The vet finally provided tranquilizers that were supposed to help get Duke in the car to bring him in. Instead they made him angry and even more unpredictable. I think the vet must have come out to put the dog down. Of course Grandmother insisted Duke be buried in the back garden with a small concrete angel to mark his grave. 

I remember Rita as unflinchingly brave and practical, always available to step up and deal with problems. She was fiercely loyal to her family and we were blessed to have had her. I think of her every time I sit down to sew.

Mom's Birthday

I spent a full day indexing the photos on my computer, well, two years' worth. It was something to do when camping in the rain without internet access. It allowed me to go pretty directly to this photo of a white rose, taken in my garden in May 2017. Aren't you impressed?

Actually this post is to remember my Mom's birthday (she would have been 101). She is never far from my thoughts.

Mom's Birthday

Inconceivable that Mom would have been 100 today. The words 'wizened' and 'frail' come to mind. I've heard it said - even just the other day - that older people benefit from having a bit of spare weight so that in the event they fall ill they will have 'something to fall back on'. Whether that is true or just an excuse, Mom never had spare weight in her life, in spite of being an excellent Southern cook. She just never seemed to eat much. Since I was a teenager I thought of her as just this side of fragile.

The other day when I was picking up around the house the thought occurred to me that perhaps had my Dad been better 'house broken' I might have grown up in a tidier home. Mind, Mom never was big on housework but she was ALL about creating beauty. Had she any hope of having a pretty house I think she would have. It's just that my Dad was spoiled rotten and never picked up after himself. I rather followed suit for more years that I care to admit until I decided I wanted to have better habits. I remember asking Mom why she never 'made' me do housework. Her reply was that she wasn't prepared to 'make' me do something she didn't want to do herself. Couldn't really argue with that. Her priority for me wasn't housework so much as homework. She was very keen for me to be educated and financially self-sufficient. I can't disagree with that either.

Mom never really saw herself as a 'housewife'. She was more a business woman (she was a photographic colourist) who happened to work from home and who also had a certain set of artistic homemaking skills that didn't necessarily include the drudgery of cleaning. I always had clean clothes, enough to eat and no one got food poisoning so I guess she did pretty well after all. 

Funny that Mom's been gone 28 years and yet she is always in my thoughts. Guess that just goes to show how very important mothers are.

Black-Eyed Peas!

I have a whole raft* of ideas for traditions, old and new, in 2018. The first is to honour my Southern roots in the US by eating black-eyed peas on New Years Day to bring good luck in the coming year. I hated them as a child and negotiated with Mom down to three: she thought eating three black-eyed peas might just be enough to save me. 

I love them now. We had a large ham over Christmas and I saved the fat from it to flavour my beans. We buy dried beans -  some of every kind they have at the Asian grocery in Brighton Grove - and a large bag of polenta (corn meal) about every 2-3 years. It takes that long for us to finish them off. The beans soak for about 24 hours and cook in the crock pot for a few hours on high. I generally cook about three cups of dried beans at a time and freeze the cooked beans in smaller portions. Nothing suits beans and ham like some hot buttered cornbread. That was Mom's comfort food and it has become mine as well.



Here in Britain black-eyed peas are sometimes known as cow-peas, which is perhaps too close in my mind to 'cow patty' to sound attractive, but I can see why one might think they bear markings similar to a cow, mmm perhaps a British White?

...there is nothing so easy to create as a tradition.

                                                     Sir Walter Scott

*How is it we use the word 'raft' to refer to a large collection of things when it is clearly a flat wooden thing for floating on water? Turns out that went from the North part of Britain over to the US:

 Do you have a tradition you observe for the New Year?

Mom's Birthday

Today would have been Mom's 99th birthday. I can't believe how old that sounds - about me, I mean, to have a 99 year old mother. It's crazy - until I remember she was 38 when I was born; what a relief!

I don't have a lot to say about her that I haven't already said. I'm thinking of her all the time in some background sort of way, particularly when sewing or cooking.

I remember as a teen setting out to become the opposite of her, mainly in that she stayed at home most of the time and was content. Now I'm very much like that.

On this blog it looks like we travel constantly, but most of the time we are at home. Bill goes out walking most weeks and to the running club. I spend a few hours at a craft, sewing or knitting group most weeks, and meet up with a friend occasionally for a day out. There are the trips to get food or prescriptions but otherwise we are at home. When younger I felt staying at home was 'boring' but I'm almost never bored anymore. 

If I'm not doing one of my many hobbies, I'm trying to learn something new. That makes me very much like Mom. I'm pleased to be able to say that.

And Another...

Well, what can I say? You find what you like and that's what you do. 

Funny enough, these used to be my favourite colours, back when I was in school, though they've never particularly suited me. Mostly I liked brown, I think because I thought it made me blend into the back ground - definitely wallflower material...or maybe just a mouse. I still don't mind brown, thinking of it as a variation of my mouse brown hair.

I think another reason I liked these colours is that my Grandmother (Mom's mom) always liked them. I only knew her with beautiful white hair, but I think perhaps she may have had reddish brown hair when younger. In real life, Mom's hair was likely a middling brown but when I first knew her (does that sound right?), and for all the years until she went grey, she had auburn hair. Both Mom and Grandmother surrounded themselves with earthy colours.

And it didn't hurt that they were way popular in the 1970s, when I was a teen. I don't wear earth colours any more, but these colours of yarn were what I had on hand, so they were what I used - in diagonal rows with brown trim all around.

Mom's Birthday

As I've mentioned, I've been immersed in family history and it does funny things to my head. On one hand I feel very fortunate to have made it to the ripe age of 60; then again I'm thinking we should plan our funerals!

One gets a strange view of people's lives from the skeleton created by records. Some folks marry and stick; other have scrappy lives passed from household to household as children. Some have long obituaries full of prestige, others seemingly evaporate into thin air.

Today is Mom's birthday. I woke up yesterday thinking about what a person would derive from her records:

• 1918: born in Lehigh, Coal County, Oklahoma. The doctor who completed her birth certificate was pretty much illiterate. Who spells 'Abigail' as Abbiegail? No wonder she denied having a middle name all her life.
• 1920: I've never found her in the 1920 census. She said she lived in a tent until she was 5 years old, since her father was a road contractor. Perhaps the census never found them.
• 1930: She and her brother live with their maternal grandmother, in West Monroe, Louisiana. Grandmother says she's 'widowed' but this isn't true, they've just parted company'. I've never found my Mom's parents in the 1930 census either. Guess they were still out on the road...
• 1933: She lives in Shreveport, Louisiana. She's in the Latin club at Byrd High School.
• 1935: Graduated high school.
• 1937: Mom's married to her first husband, Bill Linxwiler. He's a clerk at Magnolia Packaging Co in Shreveport.
• 1938: Still married, but now he is a salesman.
• 1939: Mom has her maiden name again, she lives with her brother and her mother. Grandmother has a beauty shop in Shreveport and Mom is listed as the manager. I think grandmother and my grandfather are now divorced.
• 1940: Mom and grandmother live in Miami, FL. Grandmother is married to her second husband and I'm guessing he was stationed at a Navy base near there. Mom is working as a cashier in a beauty shop, but it doesn't say grandmother is running a beauty shop, so it might be someone else's.
• 1942: Mom lives with her mother and step-father in New Orleans, Louisiana. 
• 1944: Mom and Daddy marry in Ft. Smith, Arkansas. She lives in Muskogee and works at a photography lab, processing negatives into printed photos. He is sent to Italy a week after they marry. The marriage license says she lived in New Orleans, and I'm guessing Grandmother still lived there.
• 1947: She and Daddy have gone to live in Madison, WI, near his parents.
• 1951: They move to Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, to be near Grandmother. It's cold up north! They have a little house built in a new housing estate called The Village.
• 1956: I come along.
• She lives in the same house until her death in 1990.

Mom seems to have done all her travel in the early decades of her live and then been stationary for the remainder. I lived every minute of my life in OKC for decades and have hardly stopped travelling in the latter half of my life.

Mom's Birthday

Today is Mom's birthday and I thought I might regret not having written about her; silly of me, I know. 

I found her 1935 senior high school school photograph on Ancestry a few years back and I see I've never posted it. She'd probably kill me for sharing it - no one ever seems to like their yearbook picture - but I think she was really cute.

Gone for 25 years now, but still cherished by her loved ones.

Happy Christmas!

I obviously haven't been able to make blogging any sort of priority this month! Sewing, wrapping, decorating, baking, cleaning and a little bit of shopping (and partying) seem to have taken all my time and energy.  

One of Mom's ornaments from her and Daddy's first Christmas together, in 1945.

Added to that (and perhaps a blessing in disguise) our internet connection hasn't been brilliant of late.

I believe she painted the stars on this one.

Anyhow, the tree is up, the gifts are wrapped and ready, the house is as clean as it's going to get for now (which is to say it's liveable). 

Mom made a bunch of ornaments one year with styrofoam
balls, pins, beads, ribbons and sequins. They are some of Bill's favourites.

Another of Mom's creations.

We are leaving this afternoon to go stay with Simon in Chester and to see Simone before she goes off to Germany for Christmas with her family. 

This one has a paper top, owing to a metal shortage during WWII.
I may try cleaning these when I take them down...very carefully!

Helen has decided that Christmas Day will be spent at her house this year instead of the three kids and partners coming to us on Boxing Day after Christmas Day at their mother's. 

My friend Joanne made several ornaments and sent them to me,
one each year for several years, after I left Oklahoma.

Another of Joanne's.

And several more of Mom's.

 

Bill and I are sad they won't be coming to ours but as they get older and form their own families it was inevitable that arrangements would change. 

We bought this fella in Stillwater, MN (where my Grandma grew up) on our travels up there.

His reaction when I pull his string always makes me smile.

On Christmas Day I gather I will be watching the Queen's speech, which I'm excited about. However, it seems unlikely that Simon will be wanting to watch the Downton Abbey Christmas special, so I'll have to hope I can watch on catch up TV! 

This monster was bought at Harrod's when Bill took me shopping in
London one of our first Christmas's together.

We briefly debated about whether to put up our 8' Christmas tree but I decided if I didn't I'd feel like the Grinch stole my Christmas!  Putting of the tree takes hours, but I enjoy seeing my ornaments, like visiting old friends.

Another from Harrod's.

We also discussed whether to take our presents to one another to be opened at Helen's. I could list any number of reasons not to do that and since we always used to open our gifts, or at least most of them, before our Christmas with the kids, we decided to keep that tradition. 

From the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum (Cowboy Hall of Fame, when I was a kid) in Oklahoma City. There's a cowboy hat somewhere around here...

I'm not sure how it will go, joining in with Helen's arrangements. I expect I can cope with just about anything for one day - and I promise to make a real effort to be positive, but if it's not much fun I would like to have something nice to look forward to when we get home. So we have planned to have a special meal and to open our presents on Boxing Day. 

From our first trip to Prague, many years ago.

We are invited for a meal with Bill's cousins the following Monday. My tummy almost hurts in anticipation, Chris is such a fabulous cook and she pulls out ALL the stops for these occasions. 

Then we'll gather at one of the neighbours' house for New Years Eve. We'll all go out to sing Auld Lang Syne holding hands in the street. Then we'll wander around for nibbles and music at a couple of other neighbour's. Sooner than most, we'll come home and crash.

We got this Father Christmas on one of the ferry rides to Amsterdam. I always think he's so lovely.

Working my way through these holidays always feels like running a marathon; it's very enjoyable but one wonders at times where to find the strength. I find the first week of January very satisfying, looking back on what we accomplished and even more, making plans for what the new year might hold. I like looking back and also living in the present, but mostly I enjoy looking forward in anticipation!

Happy Christmas (as they say here in Britain) and Best Wishes for 2015!

Mom's Birthday

I'm sure I've mentioned at some point that I have over a hundred letters that my Mom wrote to my Dad during the first year of their marriage in 1944-45. My Dad was sent to Italy about a week after they married and she wrote him - and he her - several times a week if not nearly every day. I don't have my Dad's letters, but they would have been nearly impossible to decipher anyhow.

I have this wishful thought of publishing these letters, if only to be sure Mom is remembered after I'm gone. I know they are full of mush, but they have other surprising details about her life and the times as well. A fantasy idea, I'm sure, but I do plan to scan them to share with my Uncle Pat and type them up just in case...

                                                               Tuesday P.M.
                                                               Nov. 21 - 

Hello My Darling --

     Golly but it seems like years since I've heard from you - I wonder how much longer it will be - I miss you so much Lyle and miss your letters too -

     I've written you a letter almost every day - but haven't mailed them - the only kind I've been able to write wouldn't be the kind to send - I'm sure they wouldn't do a thing for your morale - I've been pretty far down in the dumps Lover - but I feel better now - I went home Sat nite and just got back this a.m. - Gee but I enjoyed it. It was like a tonic - you know - Mother didn't really believe we were married - She still isn't sure - She really tickled me - I told her I'd send the certificate for proof - She took your address - She has a new way to send candy overseas - so is going to make you some -

     While I was home I was going thru some things in my cedar chest and came across all those notes you wrote me and I left in various places - drawers pockets etc - while we were at the Cadillac - Remember? I enjoyed them all over again coming across them unexpectedly that way.  Golly Mr B - I sure do love you -

     Mother sort of outdid herself on my Xmas present - I had to go with her to buy it - a fur coat - a satin robe-bed room shoes to match - 2 boxes of stationery a box of matches with my name on them - How about that - nothing but the coat is a Xmas present - The other stuff she just bought at odd times - Oh yes and she wanted to know which we wanted her and Larry to buy us for Xmas - silver or china or crystal - I'm just leaving it up to her - 

     Rec'd a letter from your Mom today - She writes the sweetest letters - I enjoy them very much - 

     I was sure Lou and Mr Dunn would be quite unhappy with me - for staying in Okie City Mon too - but they didn't seem to be. Mother sent them a qt. of wine back - I think that helped a bit -

     Larry is Staff Commander of 7th Fleet - I wrote you that he was on the Admiral's Staff - didn't I? Mother is quite proud of him -



And so on and so forth... 

The strange thing is that although they were both professional photographers, I have no wedding photo for them. I can follow that, given that it was a JP marriage in Ft. Smith, probably in a hurry before he got shipped abroad. However, there are also no photos of them together. The Christmas card below is the closest I can find. There is one photo of me and my Dad when I was an infant, but none of me and Mom. I find that all very odd.  Perhaps what they say about the cobbler's children having holey shoes and the plumber's faucet leaking is true, eh?

Oh well, this is me wishing my Mom a happy would have been 96th birthday.

Mother's Day

Today is Mother's Day in the U.S.  If you come here regularly you might remember that this occasion falls in March here in Britain and they call it Mothering Sunday.  I don't do much about commemorating either one, my mom being gone now for nearly 25 years. Besides there's not a day goes by I'm not thinking about her on some level.

I remember a conversation with Mom one year when I had sent her roses on Mother's Day. I think I must have sent white ones, those being my personal favourite, and she explained that 'technically' (in Southern parlance) white roses weren't appropriate, because they meant one's mother had passed on. I never had heard that before or since, though Sanda from Halcyon Days knew about this tradition (living in the South and all).

For some weird reason while reading Abroad this thought about white roses came to mind, so I looked it up.   When reading Abroad (link), for some reason this came to mind, so I looked it up. It would have been better had I given Mom red or yellow roses.  

The meaning behind colours of roses doesn't always apply just to Mother's Day, however.  According to this source

White roses are sometimes call the "flower of light" and are the bride's flower. They symbolize unity, sincerity, loyalty, purity, and a love stronger than death. White flowers can be mixed with red to emphasize the meaning of love, while white buds are an appropriate gift to a young girl from her father.

This might explain why the inside of Mom's wedding ring (now my wedding ring) says '14K White Rose'.  I didn't inherit a lot from Mom that I would have liked to: 

she was naturally skinny, having a lanky build and long legs; 
she had endless patience;
she was wonderfully artistic, able to do fashion sketches, oil colours, photographic colouring, sculpting and every kind of needlework;
she had beautiful hands

I did inherit her eyes. I'm working on the patience...





And I grow white roses in my garden, though they haven't bloomed yet this year. When they do, I will look at them and remember that "love is stronger than death".

Mom's Birthday

I sometimes (OK, often) wish I'd had more time to talk with Mom, time with a list of questions and a pen and paper or with a video camera.  But then I remind myself that there never would have come a point when I'd have said, "OK, I've had enough time..."  I'd always want more.

What I do have is her photograph albums.  Some consist entirely of family photos and I know who almost all of those people are.  The few that are mysteries are likely to remain so.  Take these this photo (and an enhancement) of a rural setting, two people and an old car loaded down with watermelons.  I ask every new genealogical contact if they recognise these people, but not one person has as yet.   I tend to think they might be family members, but of course that is an assumption on my part.  

How old is this car?

Any idea who these people are?

I have loads of photos of Mom with friends - male and female - in the years before she met my dad.  I think I've figured out which one was her first husband and I know a couple of the ladies' names, but most are unlabeled.  I used to hear a lot about Verna Mae Tickell (her nickname was Tickle).  It was only later when I found her name in the high school year book in Shreveport that I could place how Mom knew her.

Verna Mae Tickell, taken Aug 1942, Shreveport

Of particular interest, I found a postcard from a young man who was a POW.  First Lt. Nicholas H. Cox, USAAF, wrote to mom in June 1943 on a German postcard labelled 'Kriegsgefangenenlager', which means Prisoner of War Camp, apparently.

Dear Kay:  I just received a letter from my sister Rennie, with your address.  I'd have written sooner but I forgot your new address.  Will you find out if you can what the Red Cross was inquiring about in their telegram about Mother's address.  Assure my family that I'm O.K. Say remember Vic Mature & Gene Tierney in that picture we seen, well I got a couple pictures of them out of a movie magazine.  Well, honey chile, hope I'll be home soon so I raise Cain in Okla. City.  Lots of love & a few Xs - Nick

I Googled his name and found that his plane - 'Bathtub Bessie / Big Eagle' was shot down on the 9th of October 1942, apparently by German fighter Ace 'Pips Priller'.  Mom kept a newspaper clipping about the POWs.  I've no idea which one is Nick.

I believe he went on to become a Colonel in the USAF and was stationed at Eglin AFB in Florida, where he joined the Yacht Club and his wife's name is in the society pages. What a life!  I've no idea if he is still alive.  I wonder if he would remember Mom?  Or that film they saw...The Shanghai Gesture...

Mom's Birthday

Ancestry.com has recently released the 1940 Census, which is finally all indexed.  I found Mom and Grandmother living in Miami, Florida in 1940!

They live with a lady I've not heard of, named Dorothy, who works as a waitress.  Funny enough she's listed as a 'wife' rather than a 'head' of the household, but I can't find a previous page that lists a head of household. 

Mom was working as a cashier in a Beauty Supply shop.  She's listed as a daughter, though it's not clear of whom.  Good job I already know that part.  Grandmother was neither working nor seeking work.  She, too, is listed as a wife, which is correct.  I know she married her second husband in 1939.  My guess is that Larry is stationed at a Naval base somewhere near there.  Perhaps Dorothy's husband is as well?

Mom was born in Lehigh Oklahoma, but later lived with her maternal grandmother in West Monroe, Louisiana.  After that she was with her mother in Shreveport, and now in Miami.  I had heard about this, so it's not a complete surprise.  But it does go a long way to explain why Mom's Southern accent was always softer and sweeter than my Oklahoma twang.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Mom in the Navy

Once again, it's my Mom's birthday.  I am almost more surprised at how quickly these anniversaries come up than I am about my own rapidly increasing age.  You know what they say about having fun and time... 

Mom wasn't in the Navy (but her favourite aunt, Margaret, was).  Rather, I think Mom is wearing this because her first husband was in the Navy, as was her step-father.  That would put this photo at about 1937-8, when she was 19-20 years old. 

I always wished I'd inherited her dimple.



Mom's Birthday

Gosh, it's Mom's birthday again already.  It took me a while to find a photo of her I'd not already used.  This one will have been taken sometime in the 1930s.  Looks like she enjoyed the funny papers as well!

Happy Birthday Mom!

Today is my Mom's birthday. She would have been 91.

I can't even remember how to fry chicken, so we are having ham and beans with cornbread to remember her!

Happy Birthday Mom!

43 Things about Mom

1. She was born on August 15, 1918 in Lehigh, Oklahoma (Coal County).

2. Her birth certificate says her name was Catherine Abbegail (weird spelling, I’m not sure about the people who filled out birth certificates) but all her life she went by Kathryn and denied having any middle name at all. In fact, I never knew she had one until I got a copy of her birth certificate after she had died. Everyone called her Kay.

3. She was 5’4” and told me once she felt as tall as anyone she’d ever met. The most she ever weighed was when she was pregnant with me, and that was all of 110 pounds.

4. She had auburn hair (from a bottle by the time I remember her) and grey-blue eyes. She had a dimple when she smiled.

5. Mom used to tell me that their ‘coloured’ maid Gussie spoiled her rotten, bringing her chocolate bars and Cokes for her breakfast in bed. Mom thought of Gussie as part of the family and was distraught when she wouldn't go with them to New Orleans, having 'taken up' with a man she didn't want to leave. Mom occasionally made 'Gussie' stew for us, which was basically beef and vegetable soup with spaghetti.

6. Mom's parents divorced before she was 18. She told me once about going on a ‘double date’ with her mom about that age, when Grandmother would have been about 36.

7. In 1942, when she was 24, her step-father moved their family to New Orleans. She wrote in her diary, which I still have, that she was loath to leave Oklahoma City because she was crazy about a boy named Higgenbotham. I understand her first husband’s name was Linxweiler. My Dad had a difficult German name, but I guess my maiden name could have been a lot worse.

8. She married my Dad rather impetuously, I think, in the week before he was due to be sent to Italy during World War II.

9. She wrote him a letter nearly every day for the year he was in Italy. He brought them all back with him. She sometimes sent him little photos that she took. This one is 'Just So Mom’ – writing implements, a Coke and a cigarette – all she needed to be content.

10. She worked as a photographer during the war. First, when she met Daddy, in a studio laboratory in Muskogee. Soon after he went to Italy she and a girlfriend, Edwina, quit the lab and started their own business. They travelled by bus from town to town (presumably where there were military bases) in Oklahoma and surrounding states, including Texas, Arkansas and Louisiana. She would talk to a prospective client (usually a soldier, with or without a girlfriend) while Eddie snapped the pictures. They would rent a hotel room and set up a film developing station if possible, filling the orders and sending the photos to the addresses Mom collected. They apparently made great money – about $75 a day – in spite of all the hitches she wrote Daddy about. They worked hard, but obviously had a great time.


11. After Daddy returned from Italy they went to live up in Madison, Wisconsin for about 5 years, to be near his parents. She worked with her in-laws in the photography department of Barons Department store. She still had her Oklahoma-Louisiana southern drawl and this was popular with the customers. She said sometimes they would stand around and wait to hear her talk. She found this embarrassing.

12. Mom was very nearsighted, as was Daddy, and of course I’ve inherited this. She always wore glasses – except in her younger days when her photo was being taken. Most of the photos I have of Mom were taken before I was born, which I’m rather sorry about. I think she was happier being photographed when she was younger.

13. Mom’s mother’s family was Baptist; her Dad’s were Irish Catholic. I never knew her to attend either church. I remember her telling me she felt religion was a private matter and she wasn’t fond of the evangelical approach that Grandmother seemed to like. She and Daddy sent me to a wide variety of churches with all the kids on the block, wanting me to make up my own mind on the subject.

14. She loved children. Her letters to Daddy talk about having tea parties with a little girl who lived nearby. She and Daddy had been married for 12 years when I came along. I grew up believing I was the best thing that ever happened to her, unless I was maybe second after Daddy. (The baby in the picture isn't me, she's too young there. It's possibly her cousin's son, Jimmy).

15. She liked to dance. She did exhibition ballroom dancing in her youth, partnered by her brother, Bernard. When I was little she sometimes would put on the record Little Grass Shack and a hula outfit and dance for me.

16. I think Mom’s main characteristic was that she loved people and was good at showing it. Later in her life when I would take her to the shopping mall, she would tire and I would leave her in a sitting area and go run errands. Invariably when I returned she was having a great conversation with any and all of the others seated there and would introduce me to them as though they were her oldest friends.

17. She was also very patient and extremely creative. She taught me my numbers by drawing them as cartoon characters and often entertained me by sketching fashion figures and designing elegant clothes on them. She taught me to crochet, to knit and to embroider; and as much as I would let her about dressmaking and cooking, which unfortunately wasn’t much. When she made a salad she often made flowers with the cherry tomatoes and bell pepper strips. She made my Halloween costumes and my school clothes when I was a child (from my Aunts' cast off circle skirts) and later formal dresses and wedding dresses.

There was a bust on top of one of the bookcases in the living room that she had sculpted in clay. She once made a bouquet of roses with the petals shaped from tin can lids. She had a green thumb, keeping the border of the back yard flowering. She planned the timing, colours and height of the flowers in a notebook that I still have. My baby book has poems that she wrote about learning she was pregnant after 12 years’ marriage, about how she chose my name and about my having chickenpox, among others.

18. Mom had beautiful handwriting; people often remarked on it, very often when she wrote checks at the grocery store.

19. When I was growing up, Mom did photographic colouring for a living. She mainly coloured the portrait photo’s my Dad took,but also worked for quite a few years for Bob Baird at Baird Studios, in Joplin, Missouri. My dad and I made frequent trips to the Union bus station picking up and sending boxes of pictures. Mom also did work for Curtis Studios and occasionally did portraits for the likes of Beverly’s Restaurant (Beverly & Rubye Osborne) and the Jesse Chisholm museum. A couple of years ago Bill and I walked into a car dealership in OKC and I discovered the founder’s portrait on the wall, with her signature. Daddy’s and her portrait work came be found all over the north side of Oklahoma City. They did direct colour photography each year for my dance school’s recital pictures. She occasionally did work retouching negatives and sometimes took pictures for friends’ weddings.

20. If it was artistic or creative, Mom could do it. What she didn’t do was a lot of housework. We always had the extended family over for Christmas and she managed to make the place more or less presentable for those occasions. I noticed that her best friends had a similar approach to housework. I grew up being fascinated by the order and attractiveness of my friends’ houses, and whilst my own housekeeping is a little better than Mom’s it has taken me years of effort to acquire better habits.

21. Mom’s Christmas trees were always a BIG deal. She collected ornaments for each year, starting with the ones dated 1944, the first Christmas after she married Daddy. She said she thought they were ugly when she got them – during WWII lots of things were hard to get – but of course they were her most treasured in the years that followed. I have several of them still.

22. Mom was good with money. She could squeeze a dollar ‘til it screamed. My Dad was always the primary breadwinner in the family, but Mom was the practical one with common sense and the range of skills needed to keep the household going. She made whatever sacrifices were necessary to ensure that Daddy and I had what we needed first. She was always the last to get new glasses or have new clothes.

23. Mom seemed to replace her love of clothes with wanting other things. I remember her carefully saving up a little at a time to collect her silver service for coffee and tea a piece at a time. She did the same to buy paving blocks to gradually build the patio in the back yard.

24. Mom was a night owl. She often worked all night developing pictures or colouring pictures. As the latter required working under a big hot light, she needed to work nights to avoid the heat of the day; we never had air conditioning when I was growing up. When I talk about enjoying being propped up with pillows and coffee, I know I take after her.

25. One of the subtle, unspoken, messages I got from Mom was that it was important to have a man, but that I should always be able to support myself and not be dependent. I’ve always taken that to heart.

26. She loved dogs and cats, but mostly cats. My Dad liked dogs, but hated cats. Mom would adopt a stray cat now and then and try to hide it in the garage, but any time my Dad found it he would generally take it out in the country and leave it, which of course would upset Mom. We always had a dog.

27. She used swear words very selectively. She said ‘damn’ and ‘hell’ but couldn’t go beyond “B-I-itchy witch”. That was it. When I tried saying ‘crap’ in front of her I got hauled to the bathroom and she scrubbed my tongue with a toothbrush coated with soap. Full marks for trying to keep my language clean.

28. Mom smoked menthol cigarettes, Salems, I think. After having the flu and barely being able to breath for two weeks, let alone smoke, she decided to quit about a year before she died. Strangely enough, she didn't seem to find it particularly hard to do.

29. She drank coffee with milk and sugar in the mornings, CocaCola all afternoon and often had beer in the evening.

30. One of her closest friends was our next-door neighbour, Chris. She and Chris each built patios on their respective sides of the chain link fence. They had a sliced rubber garden hose placed on top of the prongs and each side had a step ladder so that we could cross over when needed. Most of the time they sat in lawn chairs on their own patio and drank beer and chatted in the hot summer evenings after dinner.

31. Mom enjoyed food, but she ate to live and sometimes forgot to eat. Had she lived longer, I’m pretty certain she would have had trouble with osteoporosis.



32. Like my Dad, Mom read a lot of books. Amongst her favourite authors were A.J. Cronin, Agnes Keith, Pearl S. Buck and, later, Dick Francis. I think she and Daddy supported several book clubs over the years.

33. Mom had beautiful hands, with long slender fingers and long nails, which she sometimes painted red. There used to be a photograph that I loved of her hands holding a black and white puppy – probably Cookie – that had one of her fingers in its mouth. Sadly, I don’t seem to have that to share.

34. Mom liked to cook, almost as much as Daddy and I liked to eat. Sometimes she would make a Chinese meal from scratch that took hours to make: sweet and sour pork and garlic frittered chicken, though the rice and the chow mein and noodles were convenience foods. I remember being very impatient to eat those meals. She also did incredible fried chicken dinners. No matter how tight money was, we always ate well.

35. Mom’s mother-in-law never quite took to her, possibly because of the clandestine nature of their marriage. For some reason, they chose not to tell Daddy's parents that they had married until about 6 months after the fact. Also, Mom said Grandma liked Daddy’s first wife better; this person was always referred to as ‘Poor Ad’.

36. Fortunately, Mom’s father-in-law liked her a lot and she was very fond of him. Grandma & Grandpa came over most Sundays for a meal. This was a BBQ for most of the summer.

37. When Grandpa died suddenly of a heart attack and Grandma was too senile to live alone, Mom went over to care for her. This lasted almost a year until Grandma’s physical health required more care than Mom was able to supply. I thought Mom went way above and beyond the call of duty. She felt she could do no less. I think she did it in memory of Grandpa.

38. She was good at making friends with my friends and making them feel welcome at our house. They would sometimes come by to see her even when they knew I wasn’t there. This happened a number of times with old boyfriends; this annoyed me at times when I came home and found them hanging around. One time when she was over taking care of Grandma, I came home to find some of the tougher teenage boys from that neighbourhood sitting there playing penny-ante poker with Mom. I was never sure if that was a good idea or not, but she never had any trouble, so I guess it was alright.

39. Mom and Dad separated when I was 17 after he was involved with another woman. Though that relationship was short lived, Mom and Dad never re-united. However, they never divorced either, and remained supportive of each other until Daddy’s death, 15 years later.

40. The last 10 years of Mom’s life she had her mother living with her. Though they had much in common, they were opposite in temperament: Grandmother always enjoyed a good fight, whereas Mom really hated arguing. I’m like her in that respect as well.

41.After my Dad left, Mom always had a cat.

42. Mom never learned to drive. This meant that after Daddy left, various friends and family members went buy at least weekly to take her to the grocery store. I went through a period of being quite irked at this responsibility, but over time spent more and more of the weekends at her house. I feel very lucky that for at least the last 15 years of her life, Mom knew she was my very best friend.

43. Mom took out a small life insurance policy in late March or early April. She then made an appointment with a doctor. Within a few days of telling me she’d been diagnosed as having metastatic cancer, she was admitted to hospital and died the 1^st of June, 1990, the day after my 34^th birthday.