Some Fond Memories

As Mom continues to decline, I am reminded through flashbacks of certain things about her.  Her defiance against certain rules (many times those of nature), her private moments of joy and play, and just some silliness that wasn’t at first…

I recall as a young lad going grocery shopping with the Mater.  She would do the week’s shopping and have a long list of items - sending me hither and thither among the aisles to fetch particular items. I was happy to do this, rather than having to ride my bike to Hillsdale or Raleigh Hills to gather items that she’d forgotten.  Many were the times I would hie myself back to where she was when I’d find her dancing behind the cart while perusing the shelves.  It didn’t matter what age I was, this was embarrassing!  Especially in the brand spanking new Fred Meyer’s in Raleigh Hills!  Once she’d realize my shame, she’d really get into it, and sometimes would try singing along!  Oh, the agony!

There were other times, as well, when I’d come home from school (in high school), and I’d enter the house quietly.  For me, there was no greater joy than to tip-toe in and startle her.  To hear her gasp and scream was a treat.  However, one day I walked in and there she was dusting the piano.  She dragged the rag over the ebony and ivory, then began dusting the keys one-by-one, pressing down on them.  She was trying to play a song!  She was humming along with the song she was attempting, as well….This brought me into such a state of shock I had forgotten my covert mission, and I walked into the living room and said, “That was very nice.”  Well, not only did I compliment her, but I made her shriek and freak out with a funky dance.  She tried not to laugh, but she did - as she chased me through the house telling me I’d get mine.  

Mom loved the beach.  If there were more going on there, she probably would have moved there years ago, after Dad died.  But the house is in a quiet and sleepy town that’s overridden with tourists and isn’t what she considered stimulating enough.  Her joy there was to be there walking along the beach and thinking.  If she’d had enough of that, then she’d be quietly enjoying a book, or entertaining friends and family visiting.  I believe she loved the solitude - just as long as she knew someone was coming eventually.  

Mom wasn’t a good follower of the rules of the beach, though.  There were times when the tide would be out far enough for us to hike around Chapman Point.  We’d go around and then spend some time on Crescent Beach, rather than driving up to Ecola and hiking down the short trail from the point to the beach (this trail no longer exists as it was finally washed out a few decades ago).  Unfortunately, Mom, the adult, would not pay very good attention to the tides.  I still recall having to swim, with the dog, through the rocks and out to the other side, closer to our beach.  The supposed trauma didn’t really last long, as we still had to hike back to the house, and there was so much more to see.  Mom called it a normal beach ritual.  I called it a warning to read the tide charts and watch the time around Mom...although she would argue that we were wrong and she knew best...so, it happened a couple more times, with Mom fighting us with the information - after all, how do you argue with the Queen?

Now, for some fun.  

Mom used to play FreeCell on her computer.  She’d play it for hours.  I mean HOURS!  Many were the times I’d phone her on Saturday morning and she’d be extremely tired.  

“Are you still in bed?” I’d ask incredulously.

“I did something very bad last night,” she would say.

“How late did you play FreeCell?”

“What makes you think I played FreeCell?”
“I know you.”

“Well….”

“How late?  2 am?”

“No.”

“Later?”

“Maybe…”

“3?”

“No.”

“4?”

“4:30.”

“You played FreeCell until 4:30 am?  You are an addict!”

“I know.  You need to come up here and take it off my computer.”

So, my brothers and I realized this was an issue.  I removed it from her computer.  This led to her dabbling in other games, but when she came to visit any of us, she would find the computer and begin playing leaving the rest of us in the wind. <sigh>

At one point, I had to re-program her computer.  So, I did and discovered I’d accidentally also re-loaded her FreeCell.  Ooops!   Mom ran into the room like a shark after a steak.  My brothers were quite unhappy, but I figure, ‘if it makes her happy…’  But then we really saw the effects of the addiction...so I removed it once and for all.  

 Then, there was the dishwasher incident.  

Now, not long after Mom tried to burn my house down she began to experience bad karma.  I suppose it had something to do with her not accepting responsibility for what she’d done; she told me she didn’t turn the stove on (she accidentally hit the knob and turned it on, catching the cooler on fire, then more happened- but that’s another story), but I should thank her for the new kitchen.  

So, one day Mom decided she was out of dishwasher soap.  So, what could she use?  Of course!  Let’s use the dishwashing soap!  

Mom had had her floors replaced a couple of years earlier.  She phoned me to tell me she had soapy water all over the floor, and more was coming out of the dishwasher.  What should she do?  Honestly, I couldn’t stop laughing.  She was beside herself. The insurance covered the cost to replace her flooring.  

Insurance also had to replace her carport after Mom gave her friend a driving lesson.  Her friend missed the breaks and went into the center posts and brought it down.  “Well, it really wasn’t her fault,” Mom stated.  “She couldn’t find the brake.”  So was the thinking of Queen Mater.  

We don’t see any of this anymore, but we can look back fondly and remember.  

How many of you remember stories of your loved ones?  Are they in writing for posterity?