Edith here, and it’s Wicked Wednesday again. Since today would have been my mother’s 90th birthday if she hadn’t passed away three years ago, let’s talk about our moms. Two of us here no longer have a mother living, and the rest still do. What’s your favorite memory of Mommy Dearest? What about the time she meted out a punishment you knew you deserved? Dish, Wickeds – and it doesn’t have to be all cream and roses!
Edith: Okay, I’ll start. I had a rowdy year in ninth grade. I was flip, stayed out too long after school, lied about some stuff. My mother, who had never before uttered a single swear word in my presence and never hit us (neither of my parents did either of those things), said “Damnation” a couple of times that year and twice she slapped me. I was so shocked. I clearly had pushed her past her limits (and I totally deserved it). But she also taught me to sew and to bake, how to go camping, how to identify the constellations, and how to be a fabulous grandma. I just wish she’d gotten to read some of my books, since she also taught me by example to read mysteries. Happy birthday, Mommy!
Liz: When I was little, my mother stayed home with me. My favorite time of day was early in the morning, before my father got up. She would read to me until it was time to make breakfast. I remember wishing those hours could go on all day. She also taught me to bake apple pie. To this day, I love the smell of homemade apple pie!
Jessie: Mothers give and give in little ways that don’t always get the acknowledgement they deserve. One thing that really stands out for me in my life is the fact that my mother went through a great deal of effort and heart-break to provide me with my sisters. I am eternally grateful for them and for her efforts which made them a part of my life.
Barb: I’ve put up this drawing because I thought it was a little different. It’s the front of a poster-sized card Carter Scattergood, an artist friend of my parents, made for them for a good-bye party they threw when we moved from Montclair, New Jersey to Wallingford, PA. In truth, it captures my father, whose face was more easily caricatured, better than my mother. (And yes, those are martini glasses trailing behind them.What can I say? It was the sixties.) The memory this evokes for me is how my mother found ways to make the days when there was lots of boring housework to be done fun for my brother and me. When she defrosted the refrigerator, she gave us food coloring to add to the ice in the sink. Or on days of big parties, like this one, she would move the dining room table and roll up the rug. Then she would pour some kind of liquid wax on the floor and tie rags to our feet. We would skate around the floor, buffing it. The big game was to jump up and touch the brass chandelier, now hanging low enough over the empty space where the table had been that we could reach it. After scuffing along the wood floor, you could give yourself the most tremendous shock, which would reduce us to near hysterical giggles.
Sherry: Hi, mom! My mom reads our blog every day and often buys the books she finds out about here! I have two stories. The first is from when I was in second or third grade. My sister and I shared a room. One night I crawled in bed with my sister and we were talking and giggling way past a time we should be — so much so that we woke our mom up. Mom came in our room and was shaking her finger first at one bed and then the other. We were hysterical with suppressed laughter as she gave us a good talking to not realizing we were both in one bed. In her defense it was pitch black and she didn’t have her glasses on. As soon as she left, I scrambled back to my bed still shaking with laughter. The second story is from high school. The book Valley of the Dolls had just come out and my mom asked me not to read it. So, of course, I rushed right out and bought it. Mom happened on it one day putting something in my dresser. She looked at it, then looked at me. I thought my life was probably over. But she said, “I didn’t mean to pry,” and walked out of the room. As you can see from the photo above, she’s my biggest fan!
Julie: My mother is wonderful. She and my dad are a great team, and have been a huge blessing in my life. I have lots of great memories of her, but I was just telling the nieces a story that sticks in my mind. One year she got talked into being a Girl Scout leader by her friend Diane. We went winter camping, which involved a lodge, and outhouses. She forgot her boots, so she had to wear trash bags on her feet. At one point someone dropped a flashlight down the outhouse hole (it was a multi seat outhouse. I sill shudder at the memory) and she said “if there’s a girl attached to that flashlight, she’s outta luck.” On our way home, she turned to my sister and I and said “Don’t even think about getting near that bathtub until I’m done. And I’m not going to be done for a long, long time.” Needless to say, she didn’t camp again.
Readers: Memories of your mom? Or a mom who was important to you?
