Ten on the Tenth - May 10, 2010

I have been trying to do a post about my mom since April 12, but never could make it a manageable post for readers. It was always too long. With being limited to 10 things about my mom I can finally tell you almost all about her.

1. My mom's name was Margaret. Her nephews called her Aunt Marge. One nephew and only this one was allowed to call her Maggie. If anyone dared to call her that other than this one nephew there was hell to pay (sort of).

2. My mom was a career woman long before she was a mom. This was practically unheard of in the 40s. She even transferred out of state with her job. She went into a new state knowing only her boss and his wife. The following picture is of her in her career woman days.

My mom wore a mink coat in her career days. She played golf (does a person play golf?), she went dancing, and was on several bowling teams. My mom once bowled a 300 game. That is a perfect game that many professional bowlers never get. It is kind of like the whole in one that golfers dream about. Even after my mom became a mom she continued to bowl, just not on so many leagues. Her average was something like 256.

3. In 1955 my mom became a mom (with me). This was a huge turning point in her life. One I have never been sure she didn't regret. She moved back to our home state and got married. It wasn't being a mom so much that I think she regretted but the marriage part of the whole equation. Her choice was not ideal. But she stuck it out as long as she could, about 15 years.

4. My mom could do the New York Times Sunday edition crossword puzzle in ink in under 3 hours. She took the Mensa test, passed, and was asked to join. She declined. She was a voracious reader. Her bookshelves were lined with the classics, with modern romance, Stephen King, and many biblical study reference books. She loved the opera. She loved classical music and Willie Nelson. My mom could type 65 words a minute on an old Remington typewriter and when her place of employment updated her with an electric she went up to 150 words per minute. Makes me wonder what she would do on a keyboard like we have now.

5. My mom was the most generous person I have ever known. She gave of herself and of her time. Even when she was just weeks from death she went to her volunteer job at the Courage Center. I don't know how she managed. She made the holidays special for the entire family. I mean entire family, brothers, aunts, cousins, everyone. One of my cousins has said that her heart was as big as she was.

6. My mom played the piano. One of my best childhood memories is of sitting on the piano bench with her and singing sill songs. She gave piano lessons to one of my cousins. He later went on to other piano teachers because my mom had taught him all she could. I think she probably didn't realize what talent she really had.

7. My mom was a teaser. She teased and teased and teased. Fortunately, she could take as good as she gave. She went every week to get her hair done at the beauty shop. When she would return home my husband would comment, "I thought you were getting your hair done." Her reply, "Go to hell." She would grin real big at him then. There was their weekly routine.

8. The following is the last picture taken of her. It was taken Christmas 1990. She went home to heaven in April 1991.

Yes, she is sticking her tongue out at me. I love this picture so much because that is who my mom was. She thumbed her nose at convention and had a career when women were having babies and she stuck her tongue out at anyone/thing that she felt like.

9. My mom loved cats. Growing up we always had cats, always plural. Yes this cat is sitting in a cupboard in the kitchen. My brother and me (is it and me or and I ? I can never remember) were not spoiled as kids because the cats got all the spoiling.

10. My mom loved to dress up. I mean all the way up as shown in this next photo.

That is me with her. The reason for the celebration was my uncles 70th birthday or maybe his 25th wedding anniversary. I can't remember. It was in the late 1970s. See the hair?

That is my mom. I miss her everyday. It seems like I should just be able to pick up the phone and give her a call. I wish I could.