Uncategorized

A Valentine for Mom

82 Comments

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone.

Many thanks to those who sent kind words and condolences on the death of my mother, who passed away on February 2nd. She was a good person who enjoyed simple things. My mom loved to laugh, and she was a bit unconventional. She anchored our little family, cared for her friends and did her best to create some fun in the world.

The daughter of a New York stockbroker, there was a bit of money and status in her family. Her grandfather was a preacher who died young. Her great-grandfather was an officer and gatekeeper for a society of Mayflower Descendants. There was a moral code and a distinguished lineage to uphold. For women born into such families in the late 1920’s, the expectation was that they would marry well and play their role.

Mom came of age just as WWII ended. A friend at work had a brother who had dropped out of high school and had just completed an uncomfortable stint in the Navy – a character clearly from the other side of the tracks. Mom’s parents were not thrilled, but she married him anyway. Her mother’s disapproval faded as she discovered this polite new son-in-law folded his handkerchief carefully and was very, very handy around the house. Stuff got fixed, and small things like that matter.

Mom stayed at home while my brother and I were growing. She dyed her hair blonde and smoked, like a lot of women did in the 1950’s. We accompanied her and watched while she did all the Eisenhower era housewife/mother tasks – laundry; cleaning; feeding us meat loaf and mashed potatoes; being the chaperone on school trips; doing funny, silly, crafty things.

She became a scavenger. We would make the rounds of local bowling alleys to gather up discards from the piles of debris in back. With paint and cloth and patience, she could turn a cracked bowling pin into a wacky character – a debutante in her frilly dress or a mustachioed singer in a barbershop quartet. Kitschy? Without a doubt. But there was no embarrassment. It was inexpensive, creative fun. My mom was the sort of person who did uncomplicated things like that. She loved plants and gardens and feeding the birds and sitting outside.

She went into an extended stuffed animal phase and produced a large number of plush critters to sell at craft fairs for not quite enough money to make a profit. In between fairs she was always ready to sew a bear for a new baby. Many of these teddies (and dogs and rabbits) were handmade and embroidered with the child’s name and birth date. It makes me happy to think that these are still out in the world, even if they’ve been placed under beds or pushed to the back of closets. It’s the memories they made along the way that matter most.

In the ‘70’s she worked in the cashier window at Sears, at a time when department stores had a separate, secure place where you could go to pay your bills. Because the job involved handling a lot of money, she worked behind a daunting pane of glass in a fairly humorless setting. To inject a little levity, she and her cashier friends would dress up for holidays and Halloween – poodles, fairies, firecrackers. Nothing was too dumb.

Mom with my brother, Lee

Day-to-day she wore sweatshirts and blue jeans. If an activity required getting more dressed up than that, you had to ask yourself if it was worth the trouble. A fun outing was climbing on the lawn tractor to mow the side yard.

Mom was an animal lover who made room in her home for numerous pets, including two gigantic St. Bernards. The door was always open for neglected and desperate wanderers. She and my father welcomed several abandoned dogs and far too many stray cats. There was no question about this. It was simply what they did.

For the past three decades we lived 500 miles apart. She relished using the visiting grandmother’s prerogative to do whatever came into her head without regard for house rules or discipline. When Grandma Barbara came to visit, one of the first activities would be a festival of misbehavior called “The Sock Game.” It involved letting her grandson jump on the bed while both of them ate M&M’s and threw socks into the spinning ceiling fan. Nancy and I knew the ritual had begun when the crazy laughter started and an occasional sock would come sailing out the door.

Like I say, she was a fun-maker.

One of my earliest memories of my mother is a trip we took to an upstate New York lake in summer. I was very young and couldn’t swim, so the only way to get out to the area over my head was to hang on to her neck. As her feet bounced across the lake bottom, we moved towards the middle of the lake and I sensed the dangerous chill of the colder, deeper water all around. I was excited but not scared because I knew I was safe in her arms and felt completely surrounded by her warmth. “I’ve got you,” she said. And I knew she did.

My mom meant love and home and acceptance to me. That’s what every parent hopes to be for their child, which makes it no less of an achievement. It is common as a sweatshirt and as goofy as a bowling pin character, and it constitutes everything that is most important in the world. It’s a gift I was very lucky to receive.

Love you, mom!

82 thoughts on “A Valentine for Mom”

    2. Thanks Barb.
      If Gus had come up with idea on his own we would have nixed it immediately.
      Grandma, however, gets a free pass and the sock game is still a hoot.
      Note to anyone planning to try it: lightweight kid’s socks are best. The heavier they are the greater the potential damage to the fan and other objects in the room.
      Clear out all precious glass art before you begin.
      And use only clean socks, always.

      Like

      Reply

  2. Thanks Dale – for a beautiful piece that has made me think about my Mom this morning. And for giving me hope that someday my daughter will be grateful for all my kitschy crafty things!

    Like

    Reply

  3. What a beautiful beginning to Valentine’s Day! Dale, thanks for sharing your mom with us. I miss Barbara and I never even met her.

    Like

    Reply

  4. Rise and Sentimentally Weep:

    Wow, Dale. Lovely tribute to your mom. I’m starting the week with a sentimental cry.

    I’m glad you have such great memories of your mom. It helps when it is time to say good-bye and you miss the comfort of their presence. She must have inspired your creativity, too. She sounds creative in her own way. The sock game is very creative. Who’d a thought of that one!

    On a different note, I have a favor to ask. Someone on the blog said early on that they have a child with a disability. I gave that person the name of my sister’s website and book. Her book has been nominated for a Reader’s Choice Award and we need voters. Could the person who read the book let me know who you are and vote for her book if you liked it. Here is the link.

    http://specialchildren.about.com/b/2011/02/11/vote-for-favorite-special-needs-memoir.htm?nl=1

    Her book is “A Different Dream for my Child” about raising her son who was born with a birth defect of his esophagus. She is tied in last place right now, so she has territory to cover. You can vote every day until the voting is closed.

    Thanks so much. We are rallying anyone we can find who read it to vote. We have 36 cousins and she sent the rallying cry to them, too, since many of them bought the book.

    Like

    Reply

  5. Oh Dale – your Mom sounds wonderful. That “salt of the earth” kinda gal who touches more lives than she realizes. Maybe it makes it a little easier to say goodbye when you can see where there are still pieces of a parent still alive in other people and the lives they touched.

    She raised a good, thoughtful, creative son, and that is a lot.

    Like

    Reply

    1. Hi Aaron. Good question about the World Theater photo. It had to be the early 90’s … maybe 92 or 93. I believe the name change happened in 94.

      Like

      Reply

      1. Yea that was 94 when they changed the name. On a differnt note, I was at the Guys All Star Shoe Band show at St. Joan of Arc last night. AMAZING STUFF! I actually ran into Beth Ann there and we had a nice little chat. Actually I have an idea, Peter Mayer will be at St. Joan next month. and I was thinking that could be a really nice show that all the Baboon regulars could gather and meet. What do yall think?

        Like

        Reply

      4. it is interesting that we are all our selves because of the set of stuf we came through and we can only imagine what the other guy got to have as his set of circumstances. i always wished i could have the late bedtimes of the older kids in the neighborhood on thos july and august nights when a 7 year old hates 830 bedtimes. i remember wanting lots of different things and being explained to on numerous occasions in a gentle loving tone that ther was no way that was going to happen. other kids , especially ones who had older brothers and sisters. families are always what we see as they are and have little knowledge of how the rest of the world works. you see the guy or the lady in the neighborhood that is someone elses parent and they seem normal until you hear about some circumstance that happened at their house that is way different from what it would have been at your house. you walk down the street and see all the people that have their own set of circumstances and that is part of what makes the world go round . we all have our own memories and the way we feel is colored by the people we grew up with and the ideas of acceptable worthy regular stuff vs the others guys stuff. sox at my house would have been welcomed. at my wifes house you would have been strung up by your thumbs. my house was very nurturing hers not, so why is it that i am the philosopher king and she is the cuddle bunny mom? the shortcomings we realize sometimes create an opportunity to make up deficiencies. dales mom left him with the problem of how to deal with a mom who spoiled him and left few scars. he will have to muddle through that for the rest of his life. and everytime he drives by a dairy queen he will think of her. as donna said, its nice to know you are not forgotten and dairy queen and sox make it almost impossible for dale ever to get her too far out of his mind. happy valentines day and peace babooners

        Like

        Reply

  8. nice dale,
    it is the simple things that matter
    you are lucky to have had a mother who got it. not all of them do.
    we are lucky to have you start us off daily with words that inspire and plant the seeds that make us go off in the direction that we choose after taking what you have to offer and doing what we wil with it. kind of like our blog mom, we get up go to our computers and say hello to our day and there you are. and you kind of tweak our brains to go off into the world for the day wish us all well. sometimes you comment often just sit and watch where your blog childern will take this nugget of an idea and go. your mom taught you well. she done good. so do you. thanks.

    Like

    Reply

  9. Good morning to all,

    Very nice story about your mother, Dale. Also, those are very nice pictures. The part about the sock game is really funny. It reminds me of something my mother-in-law did.

    My mother-in law sometimes helped us out by watching our daughter when she was young so that we could go out. One day, when we returned to pick up our daughter, my daughter and my mother-in-law were playing with some lint. The lint was very light and with a little blowing it would float in the air. Apprently they been sitting there for quite a long time having fun keeping the lint air born by blowing.

    Like

    Reply

    1. My grandmother also encouraged us kids in ways that my parents didn’t always love. In restaurants with straws, she taught us how to scrunch up the paper while sliding it off the straw. Then if you let just one or two drops of whatever liquid you were sipping onto the scrunched paper, it would expand and unravel, a little like those black snakes that you do on the sidewalk on Fourth of July. My mother did NOT love this trick.

      Like

      Reply

      1. A “grandmother” trick practiced by my mother-in-law was holding the small kids up so that they could reach cakes and steal a finger full of frosting. If my mother-in-law had know about the trick with the paper on a straw, VS, she probably would have also helped kids do that.

        Like

        Reply

      2. Well, I seem to have lost a comment so I will do it again. My mother-in-law had a trick something like your grandmother’s VS. She would hold up small children so that they could reach cakes and steal fingers full of frosting.

        Like

        Reply

  11. We had a phrase when my son was younger-EA for Easily Amused. I remember an entire Friday evening reading through the seed catalog and coming up with horrible puns. I treasure the EA among us and like Barbara and the socks I think many of the trail denizens are EA.

    OT Aaron and I attended a concert of the Guys’ All Star Shoe Band with Dan Newton and Joe Savage sitting in. I hope Aaron enjoyed the wonderful music as much as I did. The crafty little old ladies I attended with got us front row seats giving us a chance to watch Rich Dworsky’s hands and see Pat Donohue play hard enough to sweat!

    Like

    Reply

    1. cool . saw aaron on here saturday as my dylan comrade. i enjoyed the heck out of bob last night but i bet those of you who question his performance credentials got enough ammunition to satisfy also

      Like

      Reply

      1. Rich’s wayy too soft hands, that guy havent worked a day in his life! (concert joke, you had to be there). But amazing work by every musician involved. Dan Chinard (sp?) even had a cameo playing a 4 hand piece with Rich Dworskey. Amazing to watch the two share the bench.

        Like

        Reply

    2. I might not always be easily amused, but I sure like the spirit of easy amusement that is found on this blog. This is the Trail Baboon where the baboons sometimes laugh like loons.

      Like

      Reply

  12. What a beautifully detailed and moving portrait of your mother, Dale.

    Something saddens me about the portrait. First, it is a whole lot like what I wrote of my mother. There was a time when those descriptions wouldn’t have commanded much interest because that, more or less, was what “mother” meant. Mothers were warm and reassuring and ready to sacrifice their own interest for their kids. I thought everyone’s mother was like that when I was a kid.

    BTW, I went to my doc’s office a week ago and he gave me something special . . . his cold. I’m now barking like a seal, coughing and sneezing, gargling with warm salt water and all that stuff. It isn’t so bad unless you really want to breath or sleep, in which case I don’t recommend it.

    Like

    Reply

    2. No Steve, not everyone’s mom is like that. I am one of the fortunate who grew up with a loving, supportive mom. My husband did not. If the woman were still alive, there are days I might go box her ears and demand to know what she was thinking when she did X (my favorite being when she refused to talk to Husband for almost 2 years…but wouldn’t tell him why she was angry and wouldn’t answer the phone when he tried to call to talk it out). She did some things right, but unconditional love was not on her “to do” list. It seems like a small thing, but the fallout from its absence is huge. Treasure it and share it with others.

      Like

      Reply

      1. This is something I’m still coming to grips with. I grew up thinking that parents loved each other unconditionally and were devoted to their kids. That was what i saw. I remember thinking either of my parents would have leaped unhesitantly into the path of an oncoming train to save the other. And then I gradually began to see how that was not the norm. I still have trouble trying to assess just how typical such things ever were or are. More recently I’ve unconsciously thought that each parenting pair probably has one who can be a little tough and one who loves unconditionally. Well, maybe yes, maybe no!

        Like

        Reply

      2. I am reminded of a drive with Husband early on in our courtship – one of the first dinners he had with The Whole Family. He was very quiet and very thoughtful, almost sad, so I asked what he was thinking about. He said that he was thinking about my family, and about how we all got along and liked each other – until then I hadn’t taken time to think about how that might seem unusual. Took him a while to get used to it.

        Like

        Reply

  13. Dale: nice, thanks, and a question. Are you more your mother and your father’s child?
    Dale’s mother and my mother, a good woman, were polar opposites in several key ways, which makes me appreciate Dale’s mother. A part of the tribute to Dale’s mother was all the wonderful guest blogs the last few days. Thanks to all those.
    We will be racing across Nevada today to get ahead of a windstorm and some following precipitation as much as we can.

    Like

    Reply

    2. I’m not one to take sides, though I recall mom saying at one point that as the second child, I was the one she had permission to “spoil”.
      We saw eye to eye on a lot of things and shared a love for ice cream. When we were together we always tried to make a stop at Dairy Queen, even though she had diabetes and wasn’t supposed to eat it. I guess by taking her there anyway I enabled her misbehavior and spoiled her right back. A small strawberry sundae with chocolate ice cream was her favorite.

      Good luck racing the wind, Clyde.

      Like

      Reply

  14. Nice eulogy, Dale. Best one I’ve read in ages. My condolences. Your mom reminds me of mine: unpretentious, unconditional love, did what needed doing, loves jeans and sweatshirts, loves to have fun, can brighten a room when she walks in. Thanks.

    Chris

    Like

    Reply

  15. My mother-in-law had many of those traits, plus the iron will to never give in to the severely crippling very painful arthritis. She would have thrown the socks if she was physically able.

    Like

    Reply

  16. A fine tribute, Dale. The day Mike told us about your mom, I had the Teddy Bear’s Picnic in my head all day.

    I’m late on this morning as when I read your blog first thing this morning, it answered the question, Do I really have time to climb up and get the heart-shaped cookie cutter out and make ginger scones this morning? Yup, I guess I do. Very inspiring, your mom (and you!)

    Like

    Reply

    1. I had the same feeling that you had… only I got mine early! Made myself get up yesterday to make a valentine box for the teenager. I decorated a chinese take-out box (I have a case of them in attic… another long story!) w/ pink paper and lace and heart stick-ons. We have such a busy day today that I actually gave it to her last night (after some wheedling on her part).

      Like

      Reply

  17. Condolences to you and your family, Dale. Thanks for allowing us to ‘see’ your Mom a little bit through your tribute and photos. It is great to think that Gus will have such fun memories of your mother.
    I have to credit your Mom with a great idea, one that you shared on the Morning Show, oh-so-long ago. I believe you told us that your Mom would play an upbeat Harry Belafonte song (can’t remember the name of the woman in the song, but it had to do with her dancing, I think) when you cleaned the house together – saying the fast rhythem seemed to make the work go faster. I loved that idea, and although it was never used at our house, I keep it in my ‘great tips’ arsenal to use should the situation should ever arise where speed cleaning the house is necessary. It would be wonderful to hear that song sometime on Radio Hearltand.

    Like

    Reply

      1. I love the Banana Boat version of Day-o when one actor says, “Too piercing, mon, too piercing” and the singer has to eventually go out of the room and close the door to sing “day-o!”

        Like

        Reply

  19. It’s nice to have you back, Dale. That is a very nice tribute to your mom! You and your family have wonderful memories to share and enjoy for years to come. What a nice way to start this Valentines Day! Thanks.

    I love my mom. When I was a kid I worshipped her. She meant security to me. She was pretty and popular when she was young; she was the 1953 homecoming queen in Owatonna. She was, however, the polar opposite of Dale’s mom. She didn’t have much of a sense of humor, adventure or curiosity. She was raised in a judgmental household and right and wrong were really all she understood. Anyone throwing socks at a ceiling fan in our house would’ve had some ‘splainin’ to do! And M&Ms were strictly forbidden. We were loved and cared for but in a rigid and controlling way.

    This is something I hesitate to write about here. Thank you all for being the sensitive souls that you are. I don’t want to sound negative about my family but I do think that those of you who have close families are truly fortunate. It’s a much greater wealth than a successful career.

    Like

    Reply

    1. Krista,
      You state something that I have thought about too… families are all different; some good, others not so good… and we should be careful of that difference…

      Like

      Reply

    2. Krista – thanks for sharing. I know I’ve spoken lovingly of my family – however a lot of those words come from deep perspective that I didn’t have until many decades and some parenthood of my own went by. I never like to say I want to change the past, because I like where I am right now and wouldn’t want to jeopardize that, but there are a good handful of things that I grew up with that I’ve worked very hard to not do as a parent!

      Like

      Reply

    3. Not every mom (or dad) can be the involved, creative, care-free, baking cookies, fill-in-your-own-blank-for-perfect-parent mom (or dad). Not every family is the laugh and dance around the living room kind of family. “Loved,” is, to my mind, anyway, the key, to family – it can overcome a lot.

      Like

      Reply

  20. Morning–

    I’m into a busy week here so have skipped all the comments for the moment–

    Dale, a great tribute to your Mom. What a neat lady. I’ve already told my son about the sock game and informed him I’ll be playing it at his house with his kids someday…
    My wife informs me she hopes to be that much fun as a Grandma too. Well, I certainly expect that.

    Take care all– catch you in spits and spurts.

    Like

    Reply

  21. Partially OT Last night a new Masterpiece Theater series started. I didn’t approach “Any Human Heart” with high expectations, but I was blown away by the sweep of the story and all the fascinating plot developments. At the core of the novel on which it is based is the idea that “We never stay the same person. We change as we grow old. The things that happen to us make us different people. It’s part of the story of our life.”

    That’s close to my favorite perception of personality. I also smiled at the observation that luck plays a far greater role in our lives than we want to admit.

    The show (which has maybe two or three more segments to air) is beautifully acted and mounted all the way around.

    And if you missed it, you can go to the PBS Masterpiece Theater site and see it on your computer.

    Like

    Reply

      1. I think each of us has a range of possibilities. To take just one example, I think many of us are capable of acts of great heroism. At the same time, each of us is probably capable of taking the easy way out and failing to uphold our values. So much depends on context.

        Like

        Reply

  22. Hard to respond to this because I was closer to my adoptive mom than I’ve ever been to anyone else–when she died “family” kind of died too. She’d had a rough time, growing up in the Depression, and she wanted me to have a very different life from her own (which for various reasons I certainly have done). My favorite memories are us baking together–she always had a half-dozen different kinds of bars and cookies stashed in the freezer for lunches or visitors. Remarkably, she managed to convince me as a small child that crawling under the dining room table to dust the legs and the spindles of the chairs was fun (alas, that particular lesson didn’t stick). Someday I’ll have to pull out her bar recipes and start experimenting with veganizing them. I could use a maraschino cherry bar today!

    Like

    Reply

    1. “Mom” is not always birth mom. “Mom” could be adoptive mom, foster mom, grandma, or the neighbor who took you under her wing. “Mom” is whoever you define as your mom, no matter if she was “Mom” from the time you were a tiny baby or not until you were in your teens.

      Like

      Reply

  23. Here’s the link to buy tickets to the Peter Mayer concert http://www.stjoan.com/stjoan/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=266&Itemid=107
    Joan of Arc is my church and what we lack in elegant seating (unassigned chairs in the gym) we make up for in enthusiasm about wonderful music and a commitment to justice (the concert profits are for the justice fund).
    Baboons will make a wonderful contribution to the ambience of the event!

    Like

    Reply

  25. Thanks for info, Beth-Ann. Your church sounds cool.

    Since we are honoring our moms, I’ll say that I was fortunate to have one of the “Unconditional Love” moms. And kids always love her – I would come home from college (or beyond) for a visit, answer the doorbell, and a small group of children would ask, “Can Mrs. Britson come out and play?” She would play tag with my small son — “Run Grandma, run!” — or carry him around in a paper grocery bag. And she loved for us all to build snow forts and have a snowball fight. Got quite a bit of zaniness from her mom… but that’s another story.

    Like

    Reply

    1. that’s wonderful, BiR – so cool to have that levity of spirit. i sometimes feel the task-oriented, joyless, gotta do this mood coming over me and then i snap out of it and think life is too short. my best friend, Sue, said her Dad was always getting called to the door by the neighborhood kids. “Can Mel-baby (what he told them his name was) come out to play?”

      Like

      Reply

  26. What a MOM. Wow. And such writing. Double wow. I am moved beyond words and inspired beyond action. Wait – that doesn’t sound right … I am moved beyond words and inspired to act. That sounds better … that action being … I’m emailing Dale’s *mom tribute* to each of my kids, and the subject line is going to say, “Read carefully if you want to be in my will.”

    Like

    Reply

  27. Greetings! A lovely tribute to your mother, Dale. She sounds like a great mom. I, too, grew up with loving parents and wonderful siblings that I treasure. Some friends and in-laws have reminded us how lucky we are to all get along so well and enjoy each other’s company. It never occurred to me that a family could be anything other than what I experienced.

    Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

    Like

    Reply

    1. breathe deep. inhale that mountain air. i hate knowing its the last of the mountains. i love the mountains. after wyoming south dakota or nebraska and southeastern minnesota make the rolling rivers on our side of the state look good but ahhh… those mountains.

      Like

      Reply

  29. I don’t think I ever realized in my youth how lucky I was, only as an adult do you get to appreciate the joy of ordinary days (a Hallmark movie title). Thanks for sharing.

    Like

    Reply

Leave a reply to madislandgirl Cancel reply