A Mother’s Day bouquet for you readers
So this past weekend (as you are reading this) was Mother’s Day. I am writing this more than a week before, so I will tell you what I will be doing rather than what I did. I am going to be dog sitting my friend’s dog (who, being rather a diva, prefers not to be alone for hours at a time) so her kids can take her out for a Mom’s day brunch. I don’t mind at all- Jackson is a cutie and will nap in my nap (and snore) while I watch “Mid-Century Modern” on her cable. A good time will be had by all.
Not the one she snared Dad with, but the sedan version I grew up in
My mother died in the last millennium- both sides of my family seems to have married and had children late but didn’t live a long time- my grandparents were born in the 1880’s and my parents in the 1920’s (and me in the late 80’s. That’s my story and I am sticking to it.) In one of many moves I lost the only picture I had of her so I can’t share that. She was, as everyone in my family, very tall. Almost 6 feet. She had very Irish coloring, with jet black hair that was going grey when I was a kid (and which she refused to tint after a disastrous trip to the beauty parlor made her look in her words as if “they poured coal tar over my head.”) and green/gray/blue eyes that I inherited. She had a senso of humor: She joked about Dad’s courtship: He saw her driving her Ninety-Eight convertible through town and decided that she was the woman he would marry. She said “He pursued me ’till I caught him.”
When “Mommie Dearest” hit the shelves she knew I wanted to read it, so she bought me the hardcover, inscribing it “See- it could have been worse!” I also remember that she did not take crap from anyone. My father’s work took him away for a month at a time and once she had to have some work done on the family car’s muffler. The dealership said they fixed it. She pointed out that it audibly was not. They gave her the old “little lady come back with your husband” spiel. She came back, all right. Driving around the dealership and town with the car blatting and farting and a big sign reading “Muffler Work Proudly Performed by Labbee Chevrolet” until she decided that they had begged enough and could fix the car.
Jackson, about to nap
Along with the height and the eye color I also inherited the “Don’t take Crap” gene.
She wore Joy in the evenings and Miss Dior during the day. Sadly the former is dead too and while the latter is still out there I believe it’s in name only. I haven’t had the heart to sniff what’s become of it. Lucky for you, you can sample the originals at Surrender to Chance.
How did you spend your Mother’s Day? Any mom memories you would like to share? Please do so in the comments.
Images: My iPhone, Pexels, and Wikimedia Commons
Do you know the Irish eye colour combo is the rarest in humans? Central heterochromia is that central ring of gold/green around the pupil & grey/blue outer pupil that do many of us of Irish descent have. Like Domenic Cumberbatch our eyes look different under different lighting & eye makeup.
Probably the Irish that gave your mum the creative car revenge gene too! She sound hoot!
We sent cards and gifts to Mr. C’s mom and stepmother who live out of state. His mom used to wear Emeraude, and stepmother loves Samsara. I took my mom, who is local, out for a nice lunch which was a bit of an undertaking since she’s dealing with Alzheimers, but we made it happen. She doesn’t wear scent nowadays, but used to wear No 5, Avon Charisma, Timeless and Occur! Your mom sounds like she was a knockout and a real barrel of laughs. Loved the stories about her. Got your wit and love of convertibles from her, huh? ?
I thin’ I did indeed! But Dad made her get rid of the ‘56 Bel Air convertible when she was pregnant with me because it was “impractical” with a toddler and a baby on the way. He got her a ‘61 Impala SS 4 door hardtop with a screaming V-8, no doubt thinking she’d prefer the more sedate and less powerful “beach wagon” Country Squire we had. Not a chance. She’d let him drive it but it was her car- and the one she embarrassed Labbee Chevrolet in. We finally got rid of it for the ‘70 Olds 98, when the Chevy had 30k miles and was rusted through the floorboards.